


Irrwisch

by lavendertune



Series: Irrwisch [1]
Category: free work - Fandom
Genre: Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 49,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27117982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendertune/pseuds/lavendertune
Summary: “Irrwisch”, “Irrlicht”, „Feu follét“, “Onibi”, „Will-o'-wisp“;There are countless names for the lights that have been followed by human beings since the ancient times,leading them either to their destiny or their doom.Most people will tell you not to follow them at all, believing they are bad omens.But I believe otherwise. I believe they can help me understand, help me find my place in this world full of monsters and darkness.-------------Disclaimer: This is a free work, not connected to any fandom but I find other publishing websites confusing and rather want to have all my works on one platform than on multiple :')
Series: Irrwisch [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979395
Kudos: 1





	1. The golden maiden - Foreword

When I was a little boy my father told me a story. A story about a brave woman, a warrior and scholar who travelled the world in seek of knowledge. From icy mountains in the north to endless deserts in the south, her path took her to distant lands and new gods. With time she was known across the world. Some feared her, some admired her, some tried to bring her journey to an end. But no matter how they tried, she always prevailed. Some say she was protected by the gods; some say she was a demon. Who she really was will forever be a mystery. But how she died wont.  
All that’s left of her is a diary she wrote during the last year of her life. In it she described a meeting with an entity she had never seen before. Black as the night sky and without a form it spoke to her, pleading, begging for help for it would soon wither and die. Not knowing whether to trust this being or not the warrior drew her blessed sword and told the being to unravel its origins. To her surprise it agreed and explained that it’s not a being of the physical realm. It lives between the world of the living and the dead, that thin line every soul must cross and the place where those, who refuse to venture on, eventually go. When asked why then it was so weak it told her that those who know they won’t join their loved ones rather stay in the world of the living, wandering the earth as nothing but shadows of their former self. That was the reason why the being grew weaker and weaker until it stranded outside of its realm in a last attempt to gather their souls. Believing the being the woman agreed to help and lent it some of her strength, offering to help it on its quest. The being declined her offer, thanking her for her strength for that was already enough for it to grow. They then parted ways, never to see each other again. But the woman soon began to realize that her decision had cost her her life. On the last pages of her notebook she wrote:  
  
“Something’s not right. It may be a coincidence but ever since I came across this being my body began to grow cold. Slowly spreading, freezing my mind. I fear that if I won’t find something to thaw that ice within, I will freeze completely. I am trying my best to find a solution but it is too difficult to work with a frozen mind. It starts to overtake me and spreads into the rest of my body.  
It began with my ears. I’m starting to overhear what the wind is whispering to them.  
Then my eyes. I have stopped to see the magic around me, all its beauty.  
After that, my hands. I have lost touch of reality, of fiction.  
I fear my legs and feet will follow.  
The energy of my body will flee to the ground until I won’t be able to move at all.  
And finally, after holding it off for so long, the burning core of my very being will weaken. The air will be sucked out of my chest. When it has reached that point it will be too late. That little gleaming light that will be left will be vulnerable to the cold and eventually give in. And then I will die. I will stop to exist.  
My only hope are the “Irrwisch”, or “Irrlicht”, „Feu follét“, “Onibi”, or „Will-o'-wisp“, whatever one may call them. These small, flickering lights, flames in colours of blue, green or red. There are hundreds of stories about them. Some say they are the souls of the dead, malicious people who are damned to wander this world for all eternity. Some say they are the poor souls of those who were murdered or drowned in the marshes and can't come to rest. Others however say they are stillborn children but there are also stories stating they are evil spirits who lure you off your path and into your death. I was taught Irrwisch are the souls of those whose heart went cold and dark and eventually got stuck in the veil between the living and the dead.  
No matter which version you refer to, in the end they are poor unfortunate souls, stuck between the realities, cursed to walk this earth and jump back and forth through the veil. Souls frozen in time, appearing and vanishing. Hurting and helping. Not many people encountered those flickering remains of what was once human. And those who did were either lucky or faced a horrible end.  
I will try to seek them out. For they are the only ones left who can give me answers and possibly help me avert my fate.”  
  
With that the pages end. Scholars believe this was not her only diary but no one ever found a second.  
She has never been seen again and went down in history as one of the strongest warriors and greatest scholars of her time.  
  
I didn’t know back then but that woman was my mother.  
And this is my story.  
  



	2. The first call

People usually start with something like “It was a warm summer night...” or throw the reader right into the middle of a battlefield, but my story is far from heroic. I'm no demi-god or strong single woman. I'm just like millions of others, an insecure young adult, standing in the middle of a dead end in a part of the town I've never seen before. Something that keeps happening a lot lately. You know, finding myself at random places I've never been before. My mind going black and my body starting to move on its own. Minutes, or hours, later I come back to reality and am somewhere in the middle of nowhere: parks, near a body of water, woods, abandoned parts of the city with old houses, places like that. And I can't find a silver line.  
My therapist calls it “dissociative fugue”, a mental illness where people just suddenly drop everything and walk to god knows where. Like totally normal people, talking, smiling, looking around, walking until they find their way back to themselves. And afterwards they can't remember why and where they went.  
At least that's what I remember. I don't listen too closely to what my therapist is talking about. Being honest, I don't really care. What he says sounds logical, I must admit. But he isn't really making a change. We meet twice a month. And boy do we talk a lot. But I stopped listening quite some time ago.  
Honestly, I find him kind of strange. He's always smiling. And that's creepy.  
I look up towards the sky. The last thing I remember is the sun rising above the church I walk past every morning. Now I can't even see it anymore. A dark grey wall of clouds is hanging above the city; a snowdrop falling on my cheek and slowly running down as it melts. Great. Just what I needed.  
A quick look down on my phone before it starts snowing so much that the touchscreen stops recognizing my touch tells me I've been out for hours and missed half the day again. Good thing I have the day off. Even if not, my colleagues wouldn’t be surprised. After almost two years of working at Voluntary Services my co-workers got used to me not showing up without a notice. Luckily they understand my situation and quickly found a way to work with it- something I wasn’t used to after finishing school, but a great relief. And since I’m still living with my father as we’re trying to get a hold of my mental problems I don’t have to worry about making a living either. So doing something good for the environment in the meantime doesn’t hurt anybody. Especially not me. I’ve always loved to spend time in nature, go out for walks and don’t come back for hours. My father drowned in rocks and sticks I brought home when I was a child, our walls are still decorated with whatever I created out of them. He always told me I had a gift. I still don’t understand what he meant with that but I guess it was just something he said to me in order to spark my imagination and enthusiasm.  
Anyways, there’s still the problem of what to do with the rest of the day. I could fetch a book to read but I've read the ones I own at least twice and the bookstore doesn't have any I find interesting. At least not at hand and I'd need one now. Luckily it stopped snowing shortly after I left the alley so I don’t have to worry about getting wet. Still, the ground is covered in snow and the ice cold wind bites on my skin. I really should have picked out something warmer this morning. Guess this leaves only one option: going home.  
Instead my feet take me to a lake not far away from my old school, a place I used to visit after class to escape the nasty teenagers. For a reason I will probably never grasp I’ve always been a target of their frustration, an outlet of some sort. No matter what I tried they never stopped so I took the liberty of stopping to care. During breaks I either stayed in the classroom or hid in the bathroom, a clever tactic to stay out of my classmate’s way. They always found a way to get to me, of course. But no matter what, they never followed me here. And thus this body of water became a safe haven during my teenage years. I still come to visit from time to time, stare at the water and scribble in my notebook until the sun sets and there’s not enough sunlight left for me to see. Just like today as the little bit of sunlight which is coming through the dark clouds is reflecting on the frozen surface of the lake. It’s covered in cracks that break the snowy blanket into pieces, revealing the treacherous cold underneath. It’s thick enough to walk over it usually but one can never be too sure. Too many people have drowned during winter, so many in fact that they fenced off the whole lake during winter season for a few years. But that was before I started high school, meaning all that’s left from the fence are a few single wooden elements poking out of the snow. And yet, knowing all this, I can’t help but feel like walking across the ice. Straight towards the centre, avoiding the cracks and fissures as best as I can. Just to see how the world would look from this point of view. What would you think, standing in the middle of the lake, hearing the ice crack beneath your feet, looking out to the city around you? People walking past, birds flying above. Would anyone even notice you standing there? Would anyone scream and run over, calling for help? Would anyone care?  
Would the ice hold, supporting your body weight as you make your way back to solid ground? Or would it break at the first uncareful step, sending you to a watery death?  
Maybe it would and you’d become the first tragedy after almost a decade without any incidents. Or maybe you would survive and end up in the newspaper. Life would never be the same after that.  
That’s my best guess, at least. I’ll probably never know for I am still sane enough to stay away from the ice. And there’s not a soul in sight anyways. So I stay where I am, sitting at the shore, staring at the lake, slowly remembering why people tell me I’m weird.  
At least most of them. One of those who don’t is a little red head called Ellen. I met her back in kindergarten, meaning we go way back. She was the first friend I made after moving to Germany with my father. I could barely speak a word back then but that didn’t scare her off. On the contrary, she tried her best to communicate with me in every way possible. Sticks and stones, sign language, charade or simply pointing at whatever she wanted my attention to be at. It’s thanks to her that I learned this new language so quickly which made it a hell of a lot easier for me in general. Ever since then we’ve been inseparable. Even after we finished school when most friendships break off as everyone starts to go and find their own way through life, Ellen stayed. Her parents tried to get her to go to university but they should have known that she had other plans. Ever since my father taught her how to play the guitar she’s been obsessed with music, so much that she founded her own band during our last years of school. I was a regular at their band meetings and jamming sessions, watching all of them as they slowly began to develop their own unique style. Ellen, Scray, Bahamuth and Dan, a quite unusual bunch of people. Polar opposites to each other with Ellen being overly energetic and Scray barely talking at all, Dan being the laid back friend holding back Bahamuth as he tries to throw himself into another fight with a random dude behind the stage. They can get somewhat tiresome the more time you spend with them but they are great people. Even more than that, they are the kind of friends you can always count on. No matter if it’s the middle of the night or the end of the world, they’re always there if you need them and always know exactly what to do. Which is a true blessing for someone as socially awkward as me. There are times where I have to push that down, of course. Such a time is today, the evening they’ve all been looking for.  
Once a year our local Rock’n Roll club is holding something like a music battle where young start-ups can perform in hopes of getting a chance to play as the opening act for the next big fish coming to town. The four of them have been practicing for months and we’ve worked our asses off to get every detail right. Today all this hard work is going to be put to the test. Just thinking about it is straining my last nerve but I can’t go bailing out on them now. No matter how much I hate crowds.  
Which reminds me that I should probably get on my way home if I want to grab my stuff and head for the club in time, without having to hurry. The sun has already begun to disappear behind the trees as I raise to my feet, stars lining the horizon behind me while the night slowly sucks the colour out of the sky. Even though I should be going I can’t help but stop to stare at the sky. Orange and purple, swirling around each other inside the clouds, slowly fading into blue until no trace of their original beauty is left. Looking at moments like this I really wish I could paint like my father. Then I would grab my pencils, colours, brushes and paper, sit down and paint away, freezing this moment for eternity. It’s like I’d stop time, frame it and hang it on my wall. I’ve always liked the idea of being able to stop time and enjoy a moment over and over again. To save a single moment and keep it for as long as I wish. Which is why I stay for a little while longer, doing my best to burn every detail of the sunset into my memory as everything around me goes darker and darker.  
“Again.”  
I furrow my brows and look around. Just a second ago I heard a voice, but as far as I can see nobody’s around. It sounded like it came from the lake but I am more than positive that the last time I checked nobody was here with me. Did I just imagine it? Probably, and it wouldn’t even surprise me, being crazy and all. So I shrug it off and turn around, ready to leave this place and finally head home. But as I start to walk I realize that there is a shadow on the ground right in front of me. Which shouldn’t be possible since the sun had gone down by now. Or so I thought.  
Confused I look back, stopping in my tracks as my eyes focus on the purple flowing down the horizon to the sun which burns brightly above the trees. Slowly I let my eyes trail further down until they fixate on a figure right in the middle of the lake. With her bare feet on the ice a woman stands there, holding her hand up to the sky, making little circles of light as she waves her fingers through the air. I watch her long black hair blow in the wind, frozen, barely able to breathe. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Just moments ago there was nobody around. I would’ve known since I would have left immediately. And yet there she is, barefoot on the ice as the sun sets above me again.  
Me seeing things is nothing out of the ordinary. It’s the reason my father sent me to therapy in the first place, back when I was barely six years old. That’s when I started to see shadows following me. Shapes in the corners of the room, eyes staring at me from the darkness, things disappearing and appearing somewhere else. It took a lot of time and work for me to be able to ignore them but there was no other way in order to live a normal life. Nobody wants to hear about the dark creature stalking them on their way home. And nobody wants to know that there is something living in their kitchen. And yet these things never left me. Nobody knows what’s wrong with my brain but we stopped trying to find an explanation years ago.   
Still, to make sure I am not completely crazy I decide to approach her, hoping to find out if she is just a figment of my imagination or if what I am seeing could be real. I take the first step on the ice without a sound but she seems to notice me either way. With utter panic on her face she twirls around, her long white dress swirling around in the wind. For a moment she stares at me, eyes as dark as the night. She looks unusually skinny; her skin has a strange grey tone to it which I have never seen before. It looks almost unhealthy, as if she had been in the cold like this for hours and her skin began to suffer from it. But next to that she looks perfectly fine. At least from a distance. However, the longer we stare at each other the more I begin to realize that her eyes aren’t just dark. Her whole eyeball is black, no trace of white around her iris.  
“Hey.”  
Our eyes still locked onto the other’s I carefully raise my hand, slowly taking step after step closer to her, hoping I don’t scare her with my movement, completely forgetting about what I told myself earlier about the ice. But she doesn’t move an inch. Her eyeballs seem to move a bit which I can’t clearly see with the light coming from behind her but I guess she looks at the hand I am reaching out with.  
“My name is Dewain.” I continue as I’m finally close enough, still keeping eye contact in hopes of keeping her calm. “What’s yours?”  
She eyes my hand for a moment before she answers, seemingly not sure what to make of me.  
“Bullfinch.”  
“What?”  
I look at her, completely confused.  
“My name.”  
I slowly lower my hand, putting it into the pockets of my sweater to shield them from the cold as the wind picks up again, blowing her long hair into her face.  
“That’s an interesting name.” I manage to get out with a little awkward smile, doing my best not to sound too weirded out. Which I totally am. But I have to keep it together, otherwise she could just vanish again and I’d never find out if I’m hallucinating or not.  
“Yours too. What is it?”  
I blink a few times as I try to process what in the hell she means with that question. What does she mean with “what”? It’s a name, obviously. Maybe she doesn’t completely understand what I’m saying, judging from her heavy accent it looks like she’s from a different country. Or maybe in her culture names mean something different? Ah, no matter how hard I think I can’t come up with an answer.  
“What do you mean with it?”  
“Dewain. What is it?”  
The woman seems completely serious as she asks again, even though I can’t read her facial expression. To me it almost seems like she doesn’t even have more than one. Well, maybe she has but she’s definitely not showing them to me.  
“That’s my name. Dewain.”  
She tilts her head and lowers her eyebrows as if she’s frustrated, her gears grinding inside her head as I keep giving her answers she doesn’t understand.  
“Yes I understood. But what is it?”  
Still not knowing what she wants from me, let alone what I should answer to that, I shake my head. That woman isn’t making any sense, just like her being in the middle of a frozen lake. Next to her having pitch black eyes of course. But I won’t be able to find out what she’s trying to accomplish anyways for the second my phone starts ringing and I avert my eyes from her to take a look at my phone’s screen to tap the red button she’s gone. I quickly turn around to see if she is still around but as far as I can see there’s no trace of her. Maybe she’s been too fast for me to see. Though I don’t think it would be possible for a human being to cross such a distance in a few seconds I can’t cross it out from the list of possibilities. Just like the possibility that it was just a hallucination and I talked to myself in the middle of the frozen lake. The sky above me being back to how it was when I wanted to leave gives every indication to this being the case.  
I sigh and begin to make my way down from the ice, even more careful than before with barely any light left for me to see where I’m stepping. As soon as I reached solid ground I fumble out my phone again and take a look at my missed calls. It’s Ellen’s number. Called at 20.25.  
“Oh fuck.”  
Realizing that I have little more than half an hour to get to the club I cram my phone into my jacket’s pocket and start running, hoping I’ll make it in time.

As I finally arrive at the club the front door is already crowded  
with people waiting in line to get in. It’s nothing  
surprising, even though my town isn’t that big we do  
have quite the amount of metalheads and Rock’n Roll  
fans around. Meaning the club is overcrowded most of  
the time, especially at evenings with life music.  
I pull my phone back out as I make my way closer to  
the door, the neon sign saying “Rock Imperium” above  
the door flickering from red to black every few seconds.  
I still have five minutes left until Ellen is supposed to  
go on stage. Enough time for me to catch her  
beforehand.  
I get a few angered looks and comments as I try my best to  
push myself through the crowd and closer to the door.  
Luckily Steffen catches me in the middle of all these  
people and signs them to let me through. He is a  
mountain of a man; not only much taller than me, but  
also made out of muscles. In his well-trimmed red beard  
I see a few braids with pearls out of wood which end  
just above the symbol of Mjölnir that’s hanging around  
his neck. He looks more like a Viking, or at least how  
we picture them nowadays. He’s the kind of man you  
go to when you need help with some bullies. And yet I  
can’t take that giant man as serious as I would like to.  
Not with the glasses he’s wearing. He must be blind as  
mole since his glasses are thicker than any I have ever  
seen and are almost too big for his face. I don’t mention  
that of course, otherwise I would probably get thrown  
out before I even get in.  
It’s just as crowded inside as it is outside. All I can see  
from the entrance are people scurrying around, getting  
drinks and pushing each other closer to the entrance to  
the event hall. Thanks to that it takes me a few minutes  
to get backstage, squishing myself through crowds of  
people and hallways until I finally manage to tumble  
through the VIP door. After closing it behind me I take a  
deep breath and look around, trying to find that little red  
head between the props and people. At one moment I  
think I glimpse a spot of red but as I want to turn  
towards it I spot a black something in mid-air, flying  
directly towards me. I duck in the last second, staring  
back at the boot laying on the floor behind me after it  
smashed against the wall. Looks like someone is trying  
to kill me.  
“You ass, I told you to come earlier!”  
Reaching for the boot I turn around to the little girl  
hobbling towards me thanks to only having one shoe,  
handing the other over to her as I try my best not to  
laugh. She’s furious and would destroy me with one  
hand if I’d have the audacity of making a joke about her  
now.  
“God, I can’t even be mad at you because I know  
you’re never on time.”  
“Yepp, that’s me.” I mumble with a little grin, hoping  
she won’t tear me into pieces. She may be one head  
smaller than me but the moment her face matches the  
colour of her hair you definitely should get running.  
“Why do I even like you?” she grumbles as she puts on  
her second boot, wobbling around a little as she tries to  
keep her balance.  
“That’s what I ask myself too, can’t help you with that.”  
Finally she lets out a laugh, grumbling again as she  
realizes that I broke her act. I hate to see her mad but I  
know exactly that my self-pity always manages to make  
her laugh. And she hates me for that too.  
“Come on you dumdum, let’s get to business.”  
“To defeat the huns?”  
“Yeah, close enough.”  
Disney jokes. Always great. Usually. Guess she’s still  
too angry to laugh at them now.  
Without a warning she grabs me by the hand and drags  
me through the backstage, down a hallway and through  
a door with a note next to it saying “Rising Phoenix”.  
Behind the door I find a little a room with a big sofa, a  
few desks and lots of supplies and band merch. The rest  
of her band is lounging on the sofa, meddling with their  
instruments or going through a bunch of papers.  
“Great, there he is!”  
I fist bump Dan as he puts down his bass to give me his  
full attention, shortly before Scray pokes his drumstick  
into my side, making me flinch and jump a few steps  
away from him.  
“Boy, you scared us! You’re vital for our performance!  
Next time you’re late I won’t just poke it into your side.”  
Slightly intimidated of what that could possibly mean I  
raise my hands in self-defence, quickly babbling out an  
apology.  
“Okay okay, I got it, please don’t elaborate on where  
you want to put your drumstick. Thanks.”  
“Exactly, nobody wants to hear that.”  
Thankfully Ellen jumps to my rescue, shielding me with her presence as she puts a hand on my shoulder.  
“Alright alright.”  
Laughing Dan raises his hands and leaves us to ourselves to get something to drink from a desk next to the door, his long black hair swaying behind him.  
“Don’t think you’re completely off the hook yet though.”  
I feel my heart drop a little and but slowly turn my head towards my best friend who’s eyeing my deviously from behind.  
“What did you do?”  
“Oh, nothing.” Ellen happily hums out with a shrug. “Nothing bad.”  
I see Bahamuth carefully moving a little further away from us as I now turn my whole body around, staring her down with a panic inside of my chest that could stampede a whole town.  
“What. Did you do.”  
I’m not even asking questions anymore, a sign for my best friend to quickly think about how to untangle this situation. As expected she quickly picks up on it and takes my hand in hers, doing her best not to laugh because that would only make me feel worse right now.  
“There’s nothing to worry about, really. We just…” she stops for a moment, looking at the other guys. ”…took the liberty of stealing your design.”  
“My design?”  
My panic getting washed away by confusion I turn to look at Dan and the others, searching for a little bit of help. Strangely enough it’s Bahamuth who answers my inaudible distress call.  
“Just take a look at the stage.”  
He points at the door with his pick, apparently a sign for me to leave the room but at that moment all I can think about is how I almost completely forgot how his voice sounds. He speaks so rarely that I wouldn’t even recognize it anymore. Still, out of curiosity what in the name of everything that is holy they did I leave the room with Ellen behind me, together making our way to the side of the stage. The amount of people crowding in front of the stage is almost ungodly and more than enough to make me freeze in an instant. I really don’t know how someone could be able to get out of there and perform for such a crazy amount of people. Nothing in this world could get me on that stage, no matter how much you’d threaten me. Even if somebody would press a knife against my throat, I’d rather embrace death than doing anything in front of people. Having those presentations in front of a whole class was already stressful enough.  
But the people aren’t the reason we’re here. I let my eyes trail across the stage; from the mic to the drums and the fog machines in each corner until I finally spot a giant banner hanging on the back of the stage. It’s pitch black with a bright orange tribal phoenix drawn on it, rising from a triangle with outstretched wings. The lines of the triangle are blurred out to symbolize the impact of the fire bird breaking out of it, flying up towards the band name “rising phoenix” which is written in red letters above it in a smudge font.  
It’s the design I patched together a few weeks ago, beautifully polished out and big enough to see from every corner of the room.  
“Is this really what I think it is?” I ask, still staring at the ungodly giant banner.  
“Yepp. I'm sorry but we couldn't help it. The design was too awesome to just let it go to waste.”  
“Honestly, I never thought it would turn into more than just an idea. I, like, threw this together in ten minutes.”  
“So what? It’s amazing!” she chuckles, stepping in front of me to get my attention back. “You put so much thought into it, even Bahamuth was impressed.”  
Which is quite a feat. Next to getting him to talk.  
Still, she is right. The design itself took me maybe five or six minutes but the thought process was quite complex. Everything about this banner is fully thought through. The phoenix for mysticism, rebirth and renewal and the triangle as the sign of fire, symbolizing the band’s passion and strength, their vision and their determination to achieve it. In my eyes a perfect fit for a punk rock band consisting out of pagans.  
I didn’t have anything to do with paganism until Ellen started to drag me along to their band meetings so she kind of threw me into all of this without a warning. Surprisingly enough thanks to that I learned a lot about cultures from all over the world and modern takes on ancient belief systems.  
For example neo-paganism. It is basically a modern religious movement influenced or derived from pagan beliefs such as Celtic, Egyptian, Greek or other ancient religions. You can’t put all of them under one banner as there are countless different groups worshipping different groups of gods and goddesses or none at all. Ellen and Scray count themselves into the Celtic Ranks, Dan's more of a sceptic but still seems interested in mythological beliefs. What surprised me a lot was when Ellen told me that Bahamut is a Satanist. I have to admit, not knowing anything about satanism back then I was kind of scared at first. It didn't take me long to realize that there is more depth to Satanism as I thought and neither did I know that Satanist don’t believe in god or Satan for that matter.  
Before my mind gets the opportunity to concentrate back on the banner the rest of Ellen’s band shows up, telling her to get ready because they have to get on stage in ten minutes. That’s my clue to leave them to their work and search for a good spot to watch their performance from. I could give it a shot to look for a spot in the hall but I doubt there’s any left. Especially one where I won’t get a sudden rush of claustrophobia.  
So I basically stay where I am, leaning against the wall as the lights go out and the guys take their places at their instruments. I hear Ellen count down in a hushed whisper to give Scray his cue, starting their song with a short but powerful drum solo. With the first note of the other instruments the lights flicker back on, red flooding the stage as smoke begins to rise behind them, the crowd in front of the stage going wild as Ellen dances and jumps around to the melody until it comes to a peak and abruptly stops. Everything goes dark for a few seconds before a soft voice comes through and illuminates the stage, soft light focusing on the small figure with burning red hair. I'd love to close my eyes and listen to it but its origin captivates my eyes. The melody of the guitars returns, a smile appearing on Ellen’s beautiful face as she leads the melody with her powerful voice. A few glowsticks turn on in the crowd as the notes harden, the drums loudening, her voice screaming with a force of a thunderstorm. I close my eyes, listening to the harmony as Bahamuth joins the chorus. It's amazing how their voices dance around each other, as if they would have done so for thousands of years. Their melody, their words of wars and freedom, coming together with the sound of the drums and strings. The atmosphere in the hall is burning but not with hate, it’s filling with compassion, strength and solidarity as if our hearts are beating together with theirs. If only all the people outside would know how it feels to be here, surrounded by people who are just like you, who would step in front of you as a shield, even if they don't know you. None of them would know what hate is any more.  
Being as concentrated on the music as I am it brings me close to a heart attack as I suddenly feel something brush against my arm. I look around but see nothing at first until my eyes try to focus on something blurry a few steps next to me. I blink, once, twice, after that not to sharpen the image in front of me but to realize it. It's a young, long haired woman, floating above the ground, rocking back and forth to the rhythm. I can’t move a single muscle; I almost feel like I’m frozen as I watch her move her translucent body. Her image clears with every second until she seems to realize I am staring directly at her. The woman’s statics a bit, or something like that but that's the best way to describe it. I can't bring out a single word or move a muscle and even if I could she's gone before I can even think about what I could say. I turn around, trying to see where she went but there’s no trace of her. This can't be. This isn't possible. I know that I am going crazy, seeing shadow figures and people who aren't there, things that aren't happening. I know that. But this is it. I saw her. She was right in front of me. And she was detached from the ground. This wasn't my mind playing a trick on me like it loves to do. And this is nothing my therapist can call delusion. I don’t fully know why but I know for certain that I didn’t imagine her.  
I scan the backstage with my eyes, hoping to find her somewhere between the people. To my surprise I do. At the far end in front of a door that reads “Authorized personnel only” I see her, going right through it. As fast as I can I make my way through the backstage workers, trying to keep my eyes locked on that door which isn't too easy with all those tall metalheads. Without even checking if anybody is looking I bolt through the door and shut it behind me, finding myself in a long hallway. A few doors are scattered along it but they don't interest me. What interests me is the glowing figure at the end of it, going around a corner. I rush after her, almost falling down the stairs directly behind the corner. Every other sane person would think twice about going down into a dark basement but I don't. I don’t see a light switch anywhere and yet I literally jump down the stairs. Luckily nowadays every phone has a flashlight, making it easier to find my way around down here. The first thing I see after turning on the light are old rusted tubes and a lot of dirt. The stone walls around me look like they're already starting to crumble which makes me wonder if I'll make it out here alive. But strangely that's not the most important question I ask myself in that moment. It’s far more important where that woman went. Carefully putting one foot in front of the other I start to make my way through the tubes and boxes and all the rubbish that is scattered across the floor. I pass countless rooms and other hallways while going deeper into what feels like a mountain, deep under the ground, far away from everything living. Countless times I think about turning around and going back up but something draws me deeper. So I keep going for what feels like an eternity, turning left and right and left again until I feel something strange coming from a room next to me. I step through the open door, shining my light across the room. It’s full of what looks like old furniture, stacked to the ceiling.  
“She has to be somewhere.”  
Thinking out loud I walk further in, shining the light of my smartphone into every corner, hoping to spot her. But it seems like I am alone. Standing there in the middle of this dark room I realize that my heart is beating loud enough for me to hear it, making my hands shake. Maybe I imagined it after all. I turn around one last time to see if I missed something but my phone has other ideas. A warning appears on my screen, saying there's only 15% of energy left, shutting down the flashlight. But this can't be. My phone was almost completely full when I last looked at it in front of the R.I. . And I didn't use it except for the call with Ellen.  
“This can't be, oh come on, please.” I whine as I try to turn on the light again and again but it's no use.  
Everything I have left now is the little bit of light my display emanates which isn’t nearly enough to light up my surroundings.  
“Sorry, I guess that was me.”  
I jump back, almost falling over a bunch of stacked chairs. Quickly holding out my phone in hope it would be enough for me to see I look around, my eyes but slowly adjusting to the darkness after looking at my screen. After a few seconds I can finally make out a blurred image, like I did back at the backstage. A few blinks later the image gets clearer until it’s sharp enough for me to recognize her. It’s the same young girl I saw earlier during the concert. Taking a deep breath I take a step closer, fixing my eyes on the image of her face which blurs together with the stone wall behind her.  
“So, you do can see me.”


	3. Invisible

It takes me a good while to stop staring at her. Only after she starts to fidget I realize that she’s probably starting to feel uncomfortable and look away for a bit, doing my best to focus myself back onto reality. Or at least I hope it is.  
“And you can hear me?”  
All I get myself to do is nod. I carefully watch her as her mouth turns into a sad smile, her hand slowly reaching out to me as I keep standing there, looking like a fool.  
“Can you...-”  
She doesn't need to finish her sentence to make me understand what she wants to try. Hesitating for a moment I hold out my hand, slowly getting closer to hers. Her hand is only a few centimetres away but it's sending out an ice-cold feeling, making every hair on my arm stand up. I see her facial expression shift to something that looks like disappointment for a second but nevertheless, she holds her hand right above mine, closes it and goes right through. I flinch back because it felt like a thousand needles shooting right through my body, making my hand and half my arm feel numb and charged. A horribly heart-breaking moan resonates through the room, making me my head, not only to see if she’s okay but also to validate that we’re the only ones in this room. She looks utterly broken with sadness, breaking my own heart with a simple look down to her hand.  
“I don't know what I expected…” she starts but after her voice breaks off all that comes out is sobbing.  
Her floating body sinks to the ground as she starts to shake, leaving me standing there, not quite knowing what to do.  
“Hey, please don't cry.”  
It’s the worst thing to say to somebody who’s crying but honestly, I can’t think of anything better at the moment. I take a few steps forward to her, closer to the centre of the freezing air, hoping it would help her to calm down.  
“I can hear you.” I start, raising my hand to lay it on her shoulder. I stop just in time as I realize it will simply slip through her again and take it back down, sitting down in front of her instead. “And I can see you. I may not be able to touch you but isn’t that great already?”  
It takes a few more sobs but thanks to my words she is able to calm herself down, wiping away tears that didn’t even run down her face. Seems like she doesn’t know. And I don’t plan on telling her that all she did was something she was used to. As she looks back up to me I see dark circles under her empty eyes. She looks so thin and worn out as if she had been locked up in a room for weeks.  
“You're right.” she whispers, then jumps a little herself and stares at me. “Wait, you're right! But how? And why?”  
“I wish I had an answer for you but I don’t know.”  
Looking just as confused as her I shrug just as I get another warning from my phone as it drops down to 10%.  
“Oh my god, why did you follow me down here? Are you crazy?”  
“Some people say I am.” I shrug again, only slowly realizing what I did to myself by jumping down those stairs. “And now I'm lost beneath the R.I. in a dark tunnel system, chasing a ghost.”  
The word “ghost” probably wasn't the best choice, obviously triggering something in her as she goes silent again, looking into a corner of the room.  
“But what about you?”  
She looks back to me, puzzled by my question.  
“What do you mean?”  
“What are you doing here?”  
The girl stares at me for a second before her eyebrows sink down a little and she begins to fidget with her hands in her lap.  
“I'm stuck.”  
Of course, why else would she be here? What a dumb question.  
“Do you know why? I mean, you're a gh-“ I quickly stop myself, choosing my next words more carefully. ”You’re able to go through walls. Why don’t you just leave?”  
Looking at her it seems like my question started something inside of her mind. I can clearly see how she starts to think, playing around with her ghostly fingers.  
“That’s not quite how it works but I honestly don't know. I remember searching for something, but I forgot what it was.”  
“How long...” I speak carefully. “...are you dead now?”  
She looks at me, a deep sadness adorning her face.  
“I don't know.”  
“Then, what's the last thing you remember?”  
The answer to this question seems to bother her. She opens her mouth but closes it again quickly, looking down.  
“The last thing I remember was when they announced that the German troops just crossed the border to Yugoslavia.”  
The what now.  
“German troops, as in, military troops?”  
I already know the answer but I can't believe it. I don't want to believe it. Yet it should've been obvious from the start. Judging from the way her hair is styled and the outfit she's wearing she had to be from somewhere around the 1940's. Her hair is curled, the dress she's wearing knee long, something like a ribbon bound around her waist.  
“Then it's probably around 78 years.” I then finally answer myself as it doesn’t seem like I’ll get one from her soon.  
Not looking at me anymore she goes silent. From what people working in the paranormal field have theorized ghosts don’t seem to have a sense of time and if they do it’s twisted. Her reaction seems to support that theory.   
“Isn't it lonely here?”  
She shakes her head.  
“There are a lot of spirits down here. Soldiers, elderly, workers who died in tragic accidents. I saw some of them and helped them to accept it.”  
“But if you helped them then why can't they cross over?”  
Our eyes meet again. It's silent around us, cold, dark. 5% left.  
“I guess some died too quickly. The others can't accept it. You can't talk to them, they just ask you where everyone is, that they need to speak to their production supervisor, or something similar. I don't know how to describe it well. But it’s as if they are in a bubble where everything still looks the same as it did when they died. Then there are people like me who forgot something. Another group simply wanted to stay because they are scared to cross. There are so many reasons.”  
Both of us go silent again. Imagining you died and are stuck in a never-ending tunnel system for eternity...it’s just horrible.  
“Maybe I can help you.”  
She stares at me, a little bit of shock in her eyes. This time I’m the one not looking at her. My eyes are fixed on my screen as I watch the battery power drop.  
“How?”  
It’s a simple question but a justified one.  
“I could help you dig up your past, help you remember. Maybe then you can go.”  
With our modern technology and the town’s archives I should be able to dig something up. I may not know who she is and I met her but a few minutes ago but I can’t just leaver her here like that. She’s lost and alone, desperately clinging to her sanity. I need to help her.  
3% of battery left as the air around us suddenly starts to get even colder. A shiver runs through my body so I zip up my jacket, hoping it would help. But this is no regular cold wind. “Erika? What are you doing here?”  
In this darkness all I can see is a tall figure walking through the door frame with something round on his head. I raise my phone, hoping it would illuminate whoever this voice belongs to but right at this moment it dies and everything goes black. “Alfred? What are you doing here?”  
“I thought I heard someone scream.”  
Seeing but the faintest trace of her white silhouette I keep my eyes on her, listening to their conversation.  
“We didn't hear anything.”  
Since I can't see I am relying only on my ears. The girl whose name seems to be Erika is still sitting in front of me. The other one apparently called Alfred walks closer to us, as I can hear from the heavy footsteps coming closer. Something that surprises me as I couldn’t hear Erika’s earlier.  
“Why is this living person down here.”  
I hear how sceptic he is. Judging only from his voice he doesn't seem to trust me which I can fully understand since it’s probably not normal for the living to come down here. Or see them, as a matter of fact.  
“He followed me.”  
“He saw you?”  
I can hear panic in his tone of voice, a quite different reaction to Erika’s.  
“I can hear you too.”  
Silence again. I feel another brush of freezing air like I did early and flinch, standing up to get away from whatever touched me.  
“Don't! It looks like it hurts him.”  
I appreciate Erika's concern but couldn't she have said that earlier?  
“Oh, I am sorry.”  
“It's okay, it doesn't really hurt, just feels really weird.”  
The cold air grows more distant, a sign that he’s stepped back from me which I highly appreciate. I don’t know if it’s possible to catch a cold from ghost energy or whatever it is but I don’t want to try it out anyways.  
“Whatever, we need to go. They are coming.”  
“They?”  
I don't understand but I can feel Erika's panic as she jumps up. It’s probably because I can’t see for shit and the only person who’s able to help me is in getting anxious but I feel myself getting nervous as well. Though I guess I don’t need to be afraid of something that affects ghosts, right?  
“What about him?”  
A scream echoes through the halls as Alfred speaks. Another shiver runs down my spine, this time not because it’s cold but out of fear  
“I'll guide him out.” Erika says as she comes closer to me. “I know the way up.”  
“No Erika, that is too dangerous! You wouldn’t have enough time to get to safety!”  
Alfred steps closer again, probably to reach for Erika but she pushes him away.  
“I don't care, if they find him he will join us soon.”  
Hearing her say that completely blows away my fear and replaces it with panic. My hopes got shattered although I ask myself how they could possibly know I am in danger too. Did something like this happen before? Am I not the only one who’s been down here? And if so, what happened to them?  
“Then I will accompany you.”  
I still don't fully understand what is going on but as another, closer scream is heard, I begin to foot it, still shivering from the cold.  
“Okay but how?” I ask out loud to push myself into their conversation. “I can't see, it's pitch black for me.”  
“You need to move close to the walls and follow our voices.”  
“Come on, we need to hurry!”  
There's no time to ask any more questions or prepare myself for what is coming but the first great task is to get out of here. Luckily I still remember where the door was so I am quickly back in the tunnels, keeping one hand at the wall and following Erika's and Alfred's voices. The screaming keeps following us which makes it hard for me to concentrate on them. All I can think about is whatever the hell is happening down these tunnels and what could possibly make an already dead person scream in horror. And why am I having such a horrible feeling, like I am running for my life.  
Getting out in this darkness is far from easy. Countless times I tumble or lose them since they got so used to simply going through walls. Alfred shouts to us to be faster as I stumble again, clearly terrified. Erika is doing her best to guide me and she really does a good job, especially at keeping me as calm as possible.  
“Come one, we’re almost there. You can do it, we won’t leave you.”  
It feels like an eternity but after another turn I start to hear music which has to mean that we are close. Which we luckily are. Another turn and I finally see light again.  
“Run!”  
I follow Alfred's advice and start running as fast as I can. I hear his heavy footsteps behind me as I dash up the stairs, so happy about the light that I sink down to the ground as soon as I reached the wall across the stairs.  
“We made it.”  
I look up to Erika, finally being able to make out some colours thanks to the light. Her hair has a beautiful gold blond which shines even though she's only half visible.  
“Barely.”  
Alfred is standing on the last two steps, keeping his eyes downward at the darkness that is swallowing the rest of the stairs. He’s wearing a light green Wehrmacht uniform and a round helmet, a rifle over his left shoulder. Typical for a German soldier from the second world war.  
“Thanks you two.”  
Finally even Alfred looks at me, his dark eyes going from me to Erika and back again.  
“No need to thank me.” Erika answers with a tired smile, fixing her dress a little. Who would have thought that even a ghost’s clothes could get ruffled up.” Truly, thank you. You gave me back the hope I lost so many years ago.”  
A sense of warmth fills her eyes as her smile brightens up. I don’t fully understand what I did but I guess the simple fact of us meeting gave her something to cling to. And I would be lying if I’d say that it doesn’t make me happy as well.  
“We need to go now.”  
I stand up as Alfread steps over to Erika and takes her hand, literally grabbing her attention as he regards me with squinted eyes.  
“Will you come back?”  
Her question surprises me a little and it definitely doesn’t please Alfred but I don’t really care about if my answer will do so as well.  
“I promise. And I will help you. All of you.”  
I keep my attention at the man still squinting at me during my last sentence, hoping it would wash away at least a little bit of his obvious jealousy as I watch them go back down the stairs and disappear into the darkness.  
  
  


“There you are!”  
Still not fully back to reality I may be hearing her but my brain isn’t processing what she’s saying. I think I wandered around the backstage for at least half an hour since I left the tunnels, unable to stop thinking about what just happened. My headspace is still down in the darkness with the two glowing figures running in front of me. I keep debating whether or not all of it was real but how could I possibly imagine something like that? There’s no way, it has to be real.  
“Earth calling Dewain, are you there?”  
Realizing I'm still staring into nothingness I turn my head towards Ellen's voice.  
“Huh?”  
She looks equally concerned and annoyed, arms crossed in front of her chest.  
“We couldn't find you after the show! Where were you?”  
Great, of course they didn't. I left halfway through the song, chasing a ghost. But I couldn’t possibly tell her that. She knows about my mental situation, of course. But running after a ghost into a maze of darkness is a little bit too crazy, I think. It would just confuse her and probably ruin the evening so I decide to rather not tell her.  
“After your song I thought I saw an old friend in the crowd but I lost them and then lost myself.”  
She pulls up an eyebrow and shifts her balance to one leg.  
“You, friends?”  
Of course, dumbest excuse ever. I don't have any friends besides her and the guys. I don't even know if the rest of her band sees me as a friend at all because I've always just, well, been there.  
“Sounds strange I know.”  
Sighing Ellen shakes her head and shrugs.  
“Whatever I hope you mentally prepared for a great after show party because the crowd loved us!”  
Grinning brightly she pulls me back to their room where the other three are waiting, Scray hanging up on what sounds like someone from security. For the next few minutes I get scolded like a little kid from the whole gang. A guy from the stage crew coming through the door saves me in the end, grabbing the band’s attention to congratulate them for winning a spot as opening act. I almost get strangled to death as Ellen jumps around my neck, screaming from the top of her lungs.  
The rest of the evening was filled with booze and dancing, meeting dozens of people who tell them how much they are looking forward to see them again soon. I stay back, watching and drinking my redcurrant juice since I’m not a big fan of alcohol. Also somebody will have to bring Ellen home. Knowing this I write my father a message, telling him I won’t be home any time soon.  
As I drop Ellen’s drunk ass down on her bed it's already 3 in the morning. Her parents aren’t home, luckily. They’re not fond of seeing their daughter coming home drunk but know just as well that there’s no way of taming her down. They stopped trying a few years back, probably when she was around 20.  
Making sure she’s properly tucked in and has a bottle of water next to her bed I make for home. It’s another 45 minutes until I turn the key in our apartment’s door, quietly closing it behind me so I won’t wake my father. I sneak through the living room and let myself fall on my bed, trying my best to sleep but every time I close my eyes I have to think of Erika. She has been down there for so long now. What’s keeping her there? Why can't she leave? And how did a young girl like here die at a place like this? I have to dig deeper into the history of the building of the club, maybe I will find a clue about her doing so. So I rise from my bed and sit down at my desk, open my laptop and open google. What I already know is that it once has been an industrial building. If I can remember correctly they manufactured sewing machines. I try to find something on the R.I. website first but I know all of what’s written there already. Built 1862 as probably one of the oldest industrial complexes and used as such during the reign of the Nazi regime to manufacture their uniforms until Hitler commited suicide. Part of it laid abandoned for a couple of years until a guy named Mark Schweiger bought the empty part of the building and turned it into a club and concert hall while the other parts became a shopping centre. As I expected, not a word about deaths. Wikipedia doesn't have anything else to say about it either. What to do now? Maybe I should research the old facility instead of the R.I. ?  
Bingo! The first thing that pops up is various headlines of newsletter articles: “Lauterberg works put out of service.” , “Tragdey in local manufacture.” and countless others just like these.  
I go through of them all, careful not to miss a word, branding everything into my brain so I wouldn't forget the tiniest detail.  
“Five young boys and girls die after Gestapo storms a Swing-Party.”  
I lowly mutter some parts of the article. I can't believe what I am reading here. It seems that, during the Nazi-Regime, they started to hunt Swing fans. I knew that they were crazy back then, but arresting young adults because they were listening to swing?  
“The Swing boys got arrested and handed over to a proper labour camp. During the havoc the young men started the situation got out of hand and the officials had to take radical measures.”  
I can't believe what I am reading here. Four of these Swing-Boys attacked the Nazis who were trying to arrest them and got shot down. A young girl managed to run away but, since the old facility was originally closed off due to conversions, fell down a loose handrail and died from the fall.  
I roll my chair away from my desk, trying to comprehend. The longer I stare at these articles the colder it gets around me. Reading this makes me feel so uncomfortable it starts to hurt.  
I close my laptop and grab my jacket. 4:12. If I hurry and get the first subway I could be there at 5:30. No, that's already too late. They close at 6 which would make it impossible for me to sneak back down to the tunnels without anyone noticing me. Guess I have to delay it for one night. In the end I may have a clue about what happened to Erika but I still don't know how to help the rest of them. She could be the girl mentioned in the article who fell to her death, but what about Alfred? Who is he and why is he stuck to this place? I don't think he has anything to do with the incident, I doubt they sent soldiers to arrest some kids. His death either has to predate hers or it happened later. Though I don't think I will find any kind of information about one single soldier I don't know the name of dying during WW2. Too many died in these years and I don't need to be a historian to know that there are countless lost lives we don't know the name of. Counting in all the other souls Erika spoke of. It would probably take months to uncover every single death and in the end there'd still be some lost souls stuck there. I guess all I can do for now is sneak back down and talk to Erika and Alfred about what I found out. And maybe try to find out what they are so afraid of.  
I tried for an hour, maybe a little longer, but I couldn’t get myself to sleep. I kept thinking and at some point grabbed my phone and continued searching for information. Even though I kept ending up in an impasse over and over again I couldn’t stop going through the sides. How could so many people die in this one building and get stuck there too? Maybe I should approach the problem from a different angle. Instead of concentrating on the building and the people I should probably find out more about ghosts in general. I open a paranormal website and go through the paragraphs, stumbling about quite an interesting passage. Professors and investigators theorize that ghosts get stuck at locations for various reasons. They could be searching for something, they could have forgotten who they are, they could be afraid or sometimes even be trapped by a foreign force. Thinking about the two and what she told me it’s not plausible that they both forgot who they were. They knew their names and she could even still tell me the last historical event she remembered. But they forgot how they died. At least she can’t remember, I don’t know about Alfred. The thing that seems most plausible with the amount of information at hand is that something is keeping them there. The two of them were afraid but not because of something outside that building, they were afraid of whatever was inside, deep down at the tunnels. In that moment, running through the darkness, only orientating myself on the walls and their voices, I couldn’t concentrate on any other feelings besides my panic. I don’t know what was following us and why all the ghosts were screaming. And I have a feeling that I was lucky to escape. Again, I ask myself what on earth ghosts could be scared of. They’re already dead, as far as I know there shouldn’t be anything.  
  
Hiding in my room all morning I didn’t see my father before he left for work. It was already eleven as I took the first step out of my door to get some late breakfast which consisted of cereals and some milk. Scrunching away on the chocolate filled pieces of heaven I sit down on the couch in the living room, turning on the TV to have some background noise. With that a tiny meow comes from a corner to my right. I take a look to the direction it came from and spot an orange ball of fur trotting towards me.  
“Good morning Rhiannon. Slept well?”  
As if wanting to answer me she stretches and jumps on the couch, flopping against my arm which is her usual way of requesting some scritches. Something I would never deny her.  
“You don’t have an idea how to make the time pass faster, do you?”  
A purr has to suffice as answer, for now. One I will take as a no. In the end, how could she help me? I doubt she knows how to play chess or make a paper plane and throw it. So playing with her little squishy paws and scratching her head will have to do. Not that I’d mind, I could do this all day. But at one point my even my fingers will tire and get sore from all the squishing, no matter how much the little red ball of fur protests.  
I leave the house around eleven, giving me just enough time to arrive at the R.I. before midnight. Before I do I leave a note for my Dad on the fridge, grab my bag packed with some tools I might need tonight and get going. Both, luckily and sadly the R.I. is filled to the roof with people as it always is on a Saturday. This may make it a little harder for me to get inside but far easier to sneak back to the basement and the tunnels.  
Once I'm inside I squeeze myself through the crowd of people, sneak backstage and slip through the door with the “personnel only” sign on it. The moment it shuts behind me my heart starts pounding faster. Thinking about last night and being here again does make me a little bit nervous. But this time I’m prepared. I packed two different flashlights with extra batteries because I read that ghosts tend to drain energy from electric devices. Which is why I also brought my power bank and a charger for my phone. I switch my bag to my front and scramble out one of the flashlights which I turn on as soon as I’m standing on the top of the stairs. Shining it down all I see are the stone stairs and walls.  
I take a last deep breath before I make my way down, back into the darkness of the seemingly endless tunnel system beneath the R.I. For quite a while absolutely nothing happens. It's already half past midnight and all I've found so far are at least a billion spider webs, some abandoned furniture that looks like it's from the 16th century or older and a lot of dust.  
“Erika?”  
I start calling her name, hoping she'll hear me. But nothing happens. Why isn't she showing herself to me? Did something happen to her and Alfred after we separated? Or are they hiding again from whatever is after them?  
Standing in absolute silence I get an idea. When I met Erika she was moving to Ellen's music. Maybe that will draw her out. Luckily I've got just the thing. When I read the articles about the swing youth in Nazi Germany I checked into it and downloaded some songs. With a click “Moonlight Serenade” by Glenn Miller starts playing, echoing through the halls as the rhythm bounces off the walls. To be honest, this creates a very weird atmosphere. I can't quite describe it but being down here in the darkness with only a flashlight to see I do feel a little creeped out. Maybe it’s also because of the cold that’s making the hair on my arm stand up. A shiver runs down my spine, making me feel absolutely uncomfortable. The only thing keeping me from freaking out is knowing that this is supposedly how your body reacts to a presence of a spirit. Meaning playing the music seems to work. Now let’s hope it will attract the right spirit.  
“It's you. You've come back.”  
My heart drops down as I jump forward, turning around to the voice behind me. Chest rising and falling rapidly I clench my hand around the flashlight and stare at the worried young girl in front of me.  
“Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you.”  
I take a deep breath and relax my cramped hand, slowly letting the tension in my whole body go.  
“No, it’s okay. I guess you can't help it.”  
Laughing softly the ghostly lady fully materializes in front of my eyes.  
“That might be true. But what are you doing down here, playing music?”  
I look down to my phone and turn down the volume, hoping it will be enough to not attract any more ghosts. In the end I don’t know who I’ll come across and I doubt that all of the souls down here are friendly.  
“I was looking for you. And I thought you might like this.”  
I hold my display out for her so she can see the cover of the song as it continues playing for us.  
“It was one of my favourite songs.” She mumbles, her voice cracking a bit as her smile shifts off into sadness.  
A sense of guilt starts to build up in my belly, making me question if this was a good idea.  
“Should I turn it off?”  
“No!” she suddenly bursts out, making me back off a few steps.  
Noticing her sudden emotional reaction she too takes a step back, folding her hands in front of her chest as she quickly mutters an apology.  
“I mean, no. Please. I haven't heard it in so long.”  
Her tension fades and she goes back to her usual, calm self. I don't know if my eyes are playing tricks on me but as she screamed it looked like she faded a bit again, like a glitch. Just in real life, if you, well, can call it that considering we're talking about a ghost.  
“And why were you searching for me?”  
Pulling my thoughts back to the problem at hand I put my phone in my pant’s pocket so I have a spare hand to use.  
“Didn't I tell you? I want to help you get out of here.”  
Confusion shows up in her face, mixed with a sign of relief and happiness.  
“I never thought you'd actually come back.”  
“Well, I did think about turning around.” I chuckle, taking a look down the hallway from which I came. “Especially after hours of walking through the darkness.”  
“Hours?” Erika repeats in total disbelief. “How long were you searching for me?”  
I look down the other side of the hallway and back to her, shrugging.  
“Well, two hours, more or less.”  
“Oh. I am sorry.” Erika starts fidgeting with her hands as she speaks. “You see, our realm may look similar to those of the living but crossing over isn't always the easiest thing.”  
“What do you mean, your realm?”  
She looks behind her before she answers, almost as if she fears of getting caught.  
“Look, maybe you should turn off the music now. Some of the spirits here don't like it when we talk about this.”  
I follow her request and put my phone back in my pocket after I turned off the music.  
“Why wouldn't they want to talk about it?”  
Erika sighs as she guides me into a room not far from us. It’s mostly empty apart from a dusty rack.  
“I’m not sure but I guess they are afraid. After your death you either move on or you get stuck between the world of the living and the world beyond. It's called the veil, the force that separates the two. Since it is neither life, nor death, the lines get blurred which is why sometimes us spirits can interact with the living. But in the end it still is very hard to form a connection without someone capable of lifting the veil. Without we’re not able to see.”  
“You can't see?”  
Not quite sure what the ghostly lady is talking about I tilt my head, my eyes locked on her image.  
“How do I best describe it?” she mumbles, looking down for a few moments and chewing on her lip. “Before the veil is lifted, all I see of you is a smoke or orb like light, very dim and barely visible.”  
“That's actually how the living typically see you. Apart from shadows I guess.”  
She blinks at me, clearly thinking.  
“Well, it does make sense. Especially considering that the border is called a veil. As if the other world was covered by a thick mist.”  
“Sounds reasonable. But, that's not why I'm here.”  
“What is it then?”  
“Let me show you.”  
Putting my flashlight on the ground I grab my bag and pull out a few sheets of paper I more or less carefully put between the rest of my stuff. I unfold the sheets and reach for the light, standing up as I shine it down on the prints so she can read them.  
“Look, I found a few newspaper articles that peaked my interest.”  
I nearly put it in her hands but then luckily remember that she is still a ghost which means the sheets would just drop down to the floor. Talking with her like this nearly made me forget that she isn't alive. Well, not considering the cold and the fact that I can partially look through her.  
As I let Erika read through the lines I see her facial expressions shift. Confusion, fear, empathy and others coming and going so fast I can barely make them out.  
“This was horrible.”  
A quiet moan escapes her, making me shiver.  
“I remember, there were days all we felt was fear. Seeing this, I can't even call him human being, walk through the streets and speak for our people. It was disgusting. I guess this is how they felt in the dark ages. Repressed, stripped of their rights, their individuality. Forced to live a life that wasn't theirs.”  
Slowly I raise my hand to let it hover right above her shoulder, completely ignoring the icy pain as I leave it there.  
“Are you okay? If this is too much for you we can stop right now.”  
“No.”  
She looks up to me, such a deep sorrow in her eyes which I never thought could be possible.  
“I need to remember. I know I need to.”  
Holding her head she looks back down at the article.  
“I remember meeting with my friends in basements, abandoned houses, gym halls, in the middle of the night when everyone was sleeping. That was the only time we could truly feel freedom. A dear friend of mine had contacts to relatives in the United States. From time to time he brought us music. I still don't know how he managed to get it across the border. But he did. And thanks to him we had the time of our life.”  
While Erika speaks a soft smile reappears. She holds her hand over her chest and closes her eyes, probably remembering all the times she could flee from the horror of her lifetime, even if it was just for a few hours. But suddenly her expression turns to pain. Groaning she presses her hands against the sides of her head, letting out a muffled scream.  
“Erika, what's wrong?”  
I want to grab her but my hands slip through her, numb from the cold energy I lose the feeling in them and let go of the papers, slowly drifting down to the ground as I frantically try to think of a way to help her.  
“I don't know.”  
Visibly drowning in pain her ghostly body starts to glitch again, this time worse.  
“Erika, you're disappearing! You need to calm down. Take a deep breath, listen to my voice.”  
I know telling a ghost to take a breath is the dumbest thing you could possibly say but strangely enough it keeps working. Slowly, as I keep telling her that everything’s going to be alright, she comes back to a calmer state and her image stabilizes.  
“Yes, like this. You're doing great. There's no reason to be afraid. It's alright, they're just memories.”  
The words just flow through my mind and out of my mouth without even thinking about them. I keep talking, calm and soft, while I carefully place my hand back on her shoulder.  
For a second none of us moves a muscle until Erika slowly opens her eyes and looks at me, then to my hand on her shoulder. Her left hand starts sliding down, slowly coming closer until it is laying right above mine. I feel no pain, no stinging, just a little bit of cold and a tingling sensation.  
“You are...”  
“Am I...?”  
All we can do at that moment is stare at our hands which are clearly touching each other, her breaking her head as I do my best not to panic.  
“How is this possible?” Erika whispers absolutely puzzled, taking my hand in both of hers to inspect it. “It shouldn't be possible.”  
Right then I notice something in the corner of my eye shifting. A glitch moved along the wall, deforming it and turning it grey. I turn my head around and notice how the walls start moving, swaying, furniture appearing and disappearing.  
“Erika, what's happening?”  
“It’s not possible.”  
I turn back around to her. She is staring at me, her eyes flickering from my hand to the walls and back to me as fear slowly fills her image.  
“You're in the veil.”


	4. Stuck

I stare down at my own hands, closing and opening them, over and over as the chair next to me warps, disappears, appears, vanishes, repeatedly. I touch my face, look at Erika, around me and back down to my open hands.  
“But, I'm not dead. I'm living. Right?”  
“I think so.” Erika stutters, staring at me in shock.   
I close my eyes and try to take a deep breath. I feel my lungs widening and my chest rising, just like they would normally do but feel no air flowing in. I hold my hand before my mouth as I try to breath out but feel nothing.   
“Hey, uh-” Erika stops and thinks for a second, then tries to catch my eyes by lowering her head into my vision. “I don't know your name, do I?”  
I blink and focus my eyes on her. Strangely enough, I can't see through her anymore. Well, I shouldn't be able to since we just held hands and now I am apparently stuck in the veil. Honestly I have no idea what is happening anymore.  
I keep staring at her but her words don't seem to make sense in my head. My eyes stray around the hallway, trying to find something to fix them on but the walls keep shifting and swaying. They change length, doors appear and disappear, shadows come and fade. It's so abnormal it makes me feel sick and I feel a headache creeping up.  
“Hey!”  
I feel a surprisingly firm grip on my shoulders as I get shaken around which makes my head jerk back, my eyes finally focusing on the ones in front of me.  
“It's okay, focus on me. You're not dead, you can't be. We'll get you out of here, I promise. But first you need to calm down.”  
It’s ironic, really. Barely a day ago I was the one keeping her calm. Now look at me, stressed to the max and shaking like a leaf. But she’s right, I can’t be dead. Both of us know for sure that I wasn’t just a few moments ago. This has to have another explanation.   
“Good, you're doing great.” I hear Erika say, still concentrating on her brown eyes.   
“This is fucked up.”  
Erika lets go of my shoulders as I mumble out my frustration. She regards me with something of an awkward smile, not quite knowing how to handle all of this.  
“You're going to be alright. But now you really have to tell me your name. Just calling you friend seems a bit outdated, don't you think?”  
“Yeah, you're right.” I mumble, letting out a sigh right after. “My name is Dewain.”  
“That's an unusual name, I never heard it before. I like it.”  
Erika is saying it with an honest smile, something I have only seen a few times before. That was back when I first met Ellen’s team and they came up with their stage names. Except for Dan.  
“Well, you're one of the first persons to say that.”  
Erika lowers her eyebrows.  
“Why? Unusual doesn't equal bad, does it?”  
I crack a smile and shrug.  
“I guess for most teenagers it equals worth bullying. But that's history.” I wave off my own thoughts and take a look around me again, trying to find some sense in whatever the walls are doing. “So, I'm in the veil. Very cosy. What now?”  
“I don't know.” A little overchallenged Erika fidgets with her fingers, searching for something as she turns around in a circle. “I think it's best to find Alfred. He's been here longer than me, maybe he knows something.”  
“Yeah, good idea. But how do we find him?”  
After a few seconds in deep thought her face suddenly brightens up, her golden hair bouncing as she hops in excitement.   
“There’s a trick Alfred showed me shortly after we met to find each other. He told me that each of us has a unique energy trace. Meaning, if I concentrate on his I should be able to follow his track and eventually find him.”  
Puzzled and impressed at the same time I watch Erika hold her hand out, the back facing up, and close her eyes. She takes a deep ghostly breath and lowers her head, every inch of her attention focused on something I can’t see. It takes a few moments until she reopens her eyes and points in a direction just left of us to a point where a door keeps appearing and vanishing.  
“This way. Follow me and stay close. In the veil space and time are not the same.”   
To my surprise she stops after a few steps and stares down at her hand. I lean to the side to get a glimpse of her face, hoping to be able to understand what made her stop. In that moment she looks directly at me and grabs my hand, smiling brightly as she pulls me next to her.   
“I almost forgot already. This way we can’t get separated.”  
I’m a bit baffled, and I have to admit I nearly forgot as well. It must be nice for her to hold hands with me. Not that she isn’t able to touch other ghosts, I’ve seen her and Alfred interact. But I imagine there’s a big difference between touching another ghost and touching someone who is still alive. And I can imagine that it’s pretty easy to get lost here. Just imagining being stranded here inside this weird dimension where nothing is constant gives me a mild panic attack. Everything shifts and disappears, even doors and hallways. This may look like the dimension of the living but it's far from being that.   
As my thoughts keep turning around how weird everything in the veil is we walk through the door just after it appeared again and continue to go down a hallway. From where we’re standing it looks like it’s going on forever but like she said, time and spice in this dimension are a little different. My surroundings are changing so quickly, faster than my mind can process, that it seems like we are moving at lightning speed. I lose every little bit of orientation I had left and in this moment I can't stop but wonder how Erika manages to even remotely find her way around this place. But in the end, after being stuck here for all these decades, you eventually start to adapt. In the veil you seem to have no boundaries. With walls simply disappearing and changing you have all the freedom you could possibly imagine. Not that anyone would willingly exchange their life for this. This is no peaceful death. This is merely a giant maze you can't escape.  
“Are you alright?”  
The familiar soft voice pulls me back into what I call my reality. Once I asked myself what this is, reality. I kept thinking about this for nights, spending the time I couldn't sleep pondering about my life. Finally I came to the realisation that it's all worthless and gave up. All I know is that my reality certainly isn't the same as others.  
“Yeah, sure.” I stumble over my own words. “Just, slightly overwhelmed.”  
“Understandably.”   
Erika chuckles with the sweetest smile I've ever seen, strands of golden hair falling into her face as she turns back to look where she's going. Or, floating, really. Now thinking about it, I don't even know if I am walking myself. Looking down all I can manage to make out are my legs. The further down I look the blurrier my sight becomes. I can't make out if my legs are touching the ground or not, the same goes for Erika's. I try to focus on her legs but right in that moment they suddenly come to a stop. And strangely enough, my eyes still don't focus on them.  
“Erika?”  
I look up and see Alfred standing in front of us, staring at me with a strangely hateful expression. He is leaning against a wall next to a window through which a soft light shines that illuminates the room.  
“Isn't this the human we met?”  
“Oh, stop referring to the living as they were some kind of otherworldly being.”  
I really don’t understand what Alfred has against me but I’d say it’s jealousy.  
“Nice to see you again too.” I reply bluntly but Alfred acts like he didn’t hear me.  
Instead he shifts his balance and continues to focus on Erika.  
“Erika, what is he doing here? Did he die?”  
I look at the ghostly lady who is standing to my right. Her facial expression seems tense, every muscle is working at its maximum capacity. She's probably trying not to look too panicky, afraid of worrying me. At least that's what I'd like to think.  
“We have no idea. He came back to see us because he found some newspapers he wanted to show me but then he suddenly slipped into the veil.”  
For a few seconds everything is quiet. Finally Alfred looks at me, or rather stares, not sure if it's wonder or disgust. His eyes shift further down as his expression changes back to his usual one, moving from where my feet are supposed to be to our hands.   
“Well, seems like it. Is his hand warm?”  
“I didn't-” Erika stutters and looks down just like me. But it doesn't seem like she's going to let go. “Now that you mention it, it does.”  
I feel some weight getting lifted off my heart. The past few minutes, or hours, who knows, my heart was racing with my thoughts. I honestly feared I died the moment I slipped into the veil. What other explanation is there for me even being here? After all this is the dimension of the dead. And still, it seems like I am still alive.  
To my surprise my other free hand gets lifted up and hold by another one. The grip isn't tight but it feels colder than Erika's touch.  
“I can't believe it.”  
Alfred holds my hand for a few seconds, staring at it like he's never seen one before. Well, he probably hasn't felt warmth in a long, long time so it’s understandable.  
“Me neither. You don't seem to have heard of something like this either, haven't you.”  
Erika sounds defeated, but not hopeless. Just looking at her I can see the determination in her eyes. I wish I could be as motivated as her.  
“No, I'm sorry. But I know someone who could.”  
Both of us focus back on Alfred. His look is fixed at the ground, deep in thought.  
“You remember Gert?”  
He looks back up and meets Erika who is slowly nodding.  
“I think so. Wasn't he that spirit we met shortly after the attacks started?”  
“I met him again and talked to him. He's been dead longer than anyone else we’ve met. Maybe he knows something.”  
To be honest I start to lose track of what they are talking about. Attacks? Here in the veil? Who would attack ghosts? And in which way? I don't think he means anything humans did since usually we can't affect the spirit realm. So it probably has something to do with whatever we were running from last time.  
“So. We’re going to search that Gert?”  
I draw Alfred’s and Erika’s attention to me, just as the young soldier notices that he’s still holding my hand. A little embarrassed he drops it and signals Erika to do so too.   
“Exactly.”   
“But how will we find him?” Erika pipes up as Alfred takes the first step towards leaving the room. “I don't think I can make out his signature.”  
He stops and turns back around, just looking at her for a few moments.  
“Maybe if we try it together we will be able to find him.”  
“That could work. Doesn't hurt to try.”  
Erika steps over to Alfred and lays her hands in his. For a split second I see Alfred's eyes dart over to me with a dangerous spark behind them just before he closes them and closes his hands around Erika's. As the two of them lower their heads and focus I can't stop myself from walking over to the window. In this dimension light is a strangely rare thing, at least I expect that it is. In the end I don't know and I don’t hope to find out. But it does seem strange that, in a world occupied by ghosts, light shines through a window. I don’t even know what I expect to see by looking outside. Coined from all the horror games I’ve played and the countless horror movies I’ve seen I expect to see nothing but darkness. But the light is no illusion. Standing in front of the window I gaze over the scenery. A street, dimly lit by a few street lights. Everything looks to be covered in a thick fog, making it hard to make out any details. But after a few seconds of analysing the parts of the street I am able to make out I the street in front of the entrance to the R.I. Glowing figures cross through the fog, disappearing into the clouds or the building. Faint music can be heard, a deep bass vibrating through the air. The more I focus on it the clearer it gets and voices start to mix in together with the melody.  
I turn back around to Erika who just let go of Alfred’s hands and turns her head to me.  
“What’s wrong?” she asks, looking a bit worried.  
“Can’t you hear it?”  
Now Alfred turns around too and shoots me an annoyed look.  
“Hear what?”  
“The music.”  
I turn back around to look out the window. The silhouettes are clearer now, growing in numbers by the second. I still can’t make out which song is playing but it definitely sounds like heavy metal.  
“I can’t hear anything.”  
Still staring at the street I shake my head, a little frustrated.  
I see Erika shaking her head from the corner of my head and then looking up at Alfred. Why can’t they hear it? They should be able to if I can. Maybe if I open the window they’ll be able to? It’s worth a try.  
I reach for the handle of the window and turn it to the side. It creaks as it opens, drowning out whatever Erika is shouting as Alfred rushes over and pulls me back on by shoulder. I turn towards Alfred, puzzled by their reaction but all they do is stare at the window in horror. A cool breeze strokes over my skin as it goes through the room, playing with Erika’s hair as it escapes into the hallway.   
“Do you have any idea what you just did?”  
Alfred is still staring at the window, tightly squeezing my shoulder so hard that it almost starts to hurt.  
Noticing that Erika pulls him away from me, stepping between the both of us and shaking Alfred in order to get his attention.  
“Alfred, we need to go.” She turns to me and takes my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Now.”  
Erika turns towards the door and starts walking, trying to pull me with her but I don’t move an inch.  
“Wait, what have I done?”  
“You doomed us.”  
Ignoring Alfred’s words she turns back around, taking my hand in both of hers.   
“I’ll explain later, but we really have to go.”  
Just as she finishes her sentence a high pitched scream vibrates through the air. I wrangle my hand out of Erika’s and look outside to see if it came from one of the people there but nothing unusual catches my eye. If this isn’t unusual in itself.   
“Oh no.”  
Getting really nervous I look back at Erika who stares down the pitch black hallway in horror, holding Alfred’s hand who has his other laying on his helmet.  
“What’s wrong, what was that?”  
“They’re coming.”  
I look from the two ghosts in front of me to the window and back to again, panic slowly getting a hold of me.  
“Who is coming, what’s wrong?” I ask again as I step next to Erika, now focusing my attention on the doorframe.  
“The shadows you idiot.” Alfred suddenly growls at me and stares me down. “When interacting with something out of the veil you give off an energy signature and these things react to that. We need to go.”  
Without another word he starts running, pulling Erika with him. I’m barely fast enough to notice it and keep up with them, almost falling over my own feet as I dash forward to catch up with the two ghosts. As we run down the dark hallway I realize that that’s probably why nobody here every noticed any signs of a haunting or similar. I knew it was curious that, during my research, I didn’t come across any evidence from the R.I. . Usually historic places and locations connected to violence always show signs of paranormal activities but not this one. What Alfred just said solves that mystery, at least.  
“Shit!”  
I do my best to not run into Alfred and Erika as they suddenly brake hard, looking past them further down the hallway, trying to make out anything. I focus into the darkness and freeze in place as my eyes meet a glowing pair of otherworldly eye sockets. A tall, pitch black shadow looks around the corner at the end of the hall, right at us. With a strange slow motion it steps out and stands there, not moving an inch except for the weird tentacles at the end of what looks like it’s arm. I feel my body freezing up, something I didn’t think was possible. I guess this is how every horror game character ever felt when they first encountered the opponent. But this isn’t a game.  
“Come on.”  
Alfred takes off again, this time shoving me in front of him, pointing me down another hallway to our right. We run as fast as we can, past countless empty rooms and various other hallways. I have no clue where I’m running to but I’m sure at this point not even Alfred would know a safe spot.  
Just as we pass another hallway I see something move in the shadows right in front of me. Alfred grabs me at my shoulder and pulls me back into the hallway to our left. Before we turn downwards I see an unimaginable amount of glowing eyes turning around, vanishing behind the corner as I get pulled along. Just how many of those things are there? I promised myself not to look back as we keep running but only a few seconds later I feel an ice cold air running up my back and take a glance behind us. At first it looks completely normal but only a blink of an eye later the darkness begins to spread and rush towards us.   
“Faster!” I scream and push the two ghosts running in front of me.  
Confused they turn around to me, and if I wouldn’t know better I’d say their hearts stop the instant they see what’s coming up behind us. But there was nowhere to go. At the end of the hallway another thick mass of darkness begins to gather and look at us with its glowing eye sockets. We stop at the next turn-off and take a look down. We’re surrounded. There’s no way out. I keep turning, looking for anything that could help us. But nothing sparks an idea, all I can see are shifting walls and some kind of spray painting of a dog – dolphin hybrid.  
“Listen, I’m sorry, I didn’t know-“  
“No, it’s okay.”  
As I try to form an apology Erika cuts me off. She looks at me with the saddest smile I’ve ever seen in my life. It breaks my heart so much that I have to look away but Alfred doesn’t look better. I see nothing but regret in his face. He’s not looking at me but down at Erika’s hand which he is still holding. To get my attention back Erika takes my hand and squeezes it, doing her best to not let her smile falter.  
“Thanks for trying to release us. It really means a lot.”  
After another quick look up at Alfred Erika closes her eyes and so does Alfred. They have given up. Understandable, surrounded as we are but I’m not ready to die. Not here, not like this. There has to be something I can do. There has to be somebody who can help us.   
10 meters ‘til the darkness swallows us.   
That should give me enough time to think of something. I must have stumbled over something that could help us during my research.   
8 meters left.   
Think, Dewain. Spirits can be seen as orbs or shadows. And so do the living from the ghost’s perspective. And as I learned earlier ghosts can be traced by their energy signature. Meaning that it should be able to reach out with your own energy.   
Six meters left.   
But I’m not a ghost. And yet I am here. Something or someone pulled me into this dimension and, thinking about the music, my senses are sharper than theirs. With this information I conclude that me being alive is our advantage.   
Four meters left.   
I close my eyes and try to concentrate. I feel my body heat and Erika’s touch which is forming into a transparent cloud of energy before my inner eye. I follow her body’s outline until I reach the hand she’s holding Alfred with and notice that their energies are mixing. I follow his outline and grab his hand as soon as I can see it in my mind’s eye.   
Two meters left.  
The moment our hands touch and a circle is formed between us our energies begin to flow, circling all around us, forming a barrier that just barely surrounds the three of us. I notice their shapes moving as I continue to concentrate on our energy’s movements, raising their heads and looking around.  
“Dewain, are you doing this?”  
Instead of answering I nod. Keeping whatever I am doing up is harder than it probably looks and takes every bit of my energy. This makes me realize that this is not a permanent solution but at least it gives us a little more time.  
“Astonishing.”  
Having my eyes closed I see nothing but our energies but I feel these creatures all around us. They’re just outside the barrier, clawing and bashing, trying to tear it down which makes it nothing but harder to keep it standing.   
“What now?”  
The two of them look each other and then up to the top of our little bubble of energy. I’d love to open my eyes to take a look for myself and see how it looks to them but I fear that if I do the barrier will break. So I keep them closed, begging for something or somebody to help us. There’s no way out and I don’t think I can keep this up for much longer. Second by second our barrier shrinks, cracking with every slash of those creatures against it. It was worth a try, I guess.   
Holding tight onto the ghost’s hands I brace myself for what is to come. But instead of darkness swallowing us whole a light suddenly shines through my eyelids. I open them finally as I feel a firm grip on my shoulder. It’s hard to see anything at first with the light blinding my eyes which are but slowly adjusting to it after being in the dark for so long. After some moments I can make out a tall shadow of a man right next to us, holding something in the air that looks like a staff which seems to be emanating the light. I turn my head to look down the hallway behind us, seeing the shadows slowly retreating, twirling in pain and agony beneath the pure white light. I hear the shadows scream as they crawl back into the endless hallways, trampling over each other in order to escape. As the light slowly burns out and the hallways dim back down my senses fully return to me. A sharp pain pierces through my head, making me let go of Erika’s and Alfred’s hands to press them against my temples.  
“Dewain?”  
After that my body just drops down with a warning. Alfred catches me before I can hit the ground, trying to help me back up on my feet but there’s no way I can support my own weight. It’s as if someone had drained out all of my energy. I try to keep my eyes open but they refuse to focus, my lids falling shut every time I open them too wide. All I hear is static noise as somebody else grabs me under my arms and pulls me up. That someone is far taller than me and tries to speak with me as I can see during the brief moment my eyes flutter open but I can’t make out any words. It takes a while until my vision returns to me, blurry faces surrounding me, talking to me. Again an intense pain runs through my head, making me flinch and press my hand against the side of it.   
“Can you hear me?”  
As my hearing returns so does the pain start to fade. Slowly and carefully I open my eyes, raising my head towards the voice. It’s strange, deep and husky, not a voice I heard before. It belongs to the older man who is holding me on my feet. Erika and Alfred are standing next to him, staring at me like I just came back from the dead.  
“Can you stand?”  
“Barely.”  
I sound like a truck just ran over me and to be honest, I feel exactly like it. It takes a few tries but in the end I manage to stand on my own feet. As soon as he checks that I’m able to stand on my own the man let’s go of me which finally gives me some space to breathe. Or what comes close to it here in the void.  
“What just happened?”  
Finally, a familiar voice. Erika isn’t looking at me anymore but at the tall man in peculiar clothes. In this darkness I can’t make out many details but he’s looking like he just came right from a LARP session or something. Ripped old cloak, leather clothes, a long bag which hangs over one of his shoulders and a big dark wooden staff. The top of the staff looks like flames dancing around each other, forming a hollow top in which something shiny has been mounted.  
“And who are you?” Erika adds, a sense of distrust in her voice I haven’t heard before.  
“Who I am is of no interest. It’s you I am curious about.”  
Erika gives me a quick confused do-you-understand-what-he-just-said look before Alfred takes over with handling this stranger.  
“Don’t answer a question with another question. Who are you?”  
The old man looks down at the way smaller and thinner boy in front of him with a dangerous flicker in his eyes. Alfred immediately takes a step back, probably regretting having backtalked to him.  
“Well, whoever you are, thank you.”  
I finally gather enough strength to speak up and turn the attention towards me. To my surprise the man doesn’t look intimidating at all as he turns back to me. I mean yes, he’s still tall and his worn face shows no sign of a smile but I see no reason to be afraid.  
“There’s no need to thank me, I simply happened to be at the right spot at the right moment.”  
Erika and Alfred look at each other, probably amazed by the fact that the man, in fact, is able to speak like a normal person. “Now, who are you.”  
Erika and Alfred both visualize me not to say a word but there’s a feeling inside of me that tells me I can trust him.  
“I’m Dewain. Those are Erika and Alfred.”  
The two ghosts look bitterly disappointed, Alfred laying a hand over his face so he doesn’t have to look at the shame that is me blindly trusting strangers.   
“You don’t belong here, do you?”  
Baffled by his sudden remark I exchange look with the other two who look just like me, completely overrun.  
“How do you know?”  
I feel his eyes drill into me and suddenly start to feel incredibly uncomfortable. Not in danger or something like that but my mind seems to give me sort of a warning. As if I just crossed a border I shouldn’t have crossed.  
“Wait, you’re a living too.”  
I look over to Erika who is staring at the man in front of me who isn’t taking his eyes off me anymore. He says nothing to her or shows any signs of answering her.  
“You’re not a ghost?” I ask, hoping for the answer that Erika didn’t get.  
“And neither are you.”  
“Could you just shut up for a minute?”  
Erika and I turn towards Alfred as he bursts out, looking highly stressed, especially due to the way his short light brown hair is completely messed up after he took off his helmet.  
“So first he…” Alfred grumbles after realizing he has our attention, staring me down. “…somehow manages to get stuck in here and we have to babysit him and keep him from getting himself killed. Then this man plops in out of nowhere with some weird light coming out of his magical staff, acting all mysterious after saving us from those things like it was nothing. What the hell is even going on? Am I the only sane person left here?”  
Completely speechless we stare at the young soldier, even the old man regards him from the corner of his eyes. I can’t begin to describe how much shock and wonder is written all over Erika’s face as she leans around the man to get a better look at Alfred.  
“I never knew you were able to express yourself like this.”  
“I’m just really mad, okay?” A little disgruntled by his own reaction he puts his helmet back on his ruined hair. “But that’s not the point. I want an explanation. Now.”  
Still not turning his head to Alfred the man closes his eyes only to fix them, again, on me after a few seconds of silence.  
“Even if I would try to explain it to you, you wouldn’t understand. Important right now is to get you to safety and this boy out of here.”  
“Well, at least we agree on something.”  
I look between Alfred and the weird old man who I’m just going to call strange magician for now. As we continue to stare at each other Erika’s gears are grinding, tracing a line of thought we cannot grasp until she raises her head again.  
“Anyway, we are thankful for your help. Whoever you may be. But what now?”  
The old man regards her for a second before he rummages around in the worn satchel that is hanging from his shoulder, taking out a small clear stone which he then holds out to her.   
“This will protect you. You know these halls, so you already know which path to take.”  
To all our surprise he takes one of Erika’s hands and lays the stone on it. Not only is he able to physically interact with her but so does the stone which does not fall through her palm. Now laying in Erika’s little hands the stone looks far bigger.  
She raises her eyebrows and looks down at the crystal in her hand but says nothing. Neither does Alfred. I guess they’re too confused to say anything, just like me. We stare at the stone and then each other but before any of us can say a word the man grabs my shoulder, the same moment everything around me starts to shift. Just like earlier when I slipped into the veil I start to feel dizzy, my vision going blurry as my surroundings start to change. I would say the colours around me begin to come back as well but despite the dark red of the hallway walls no colours around us are even slightly visible. In the end it is still night. I look around, hoping to spot either Erika or Alfred but they are gone. It’s like as they were never even there. Like these weird shadow beings which were driven back by the light of the man’s staff.  
“So, what did you do in there.”  
I look up to the old man next to me. He’s a lot closer now, giving me a chance to get a better look. He’s half a head bigger than me, meaning he must be around 1,80cm. His beard is thick and scruffy, the bags under his eyes contrasting with his pale skin like the edged outlines of his face. The cloak he is wearing looks to be made from a dark thick leather, beneath it around his neck he is wearing a dirty old scarf which looks like it’s been in use for at least two generations. Still, outside of the veil something seems different. I can’t explain it but in there he radiated with strength and self-confidence, making you feel smaller by simply looking at him. Now, I don’t want to imply that he is less intimidating now, but something is missing. He looks more human.  
“If I knew that I would gladly tell you. But honestly, I have no clue.”  
My honesty seems to surprise him, at least that’s what I make from his eyebrows rising as I answer.   
“You really don’t know, do you?”  
“Know what?”  
Silence hovers over us after I answer, waiting for some clearance but instead the man again starts searching for something in his satchel.   
“Meet me tomorrow at noon. I need to show you something.”  
He hands me a little piece of paper. In this darkness I can’t make out what’s written on it but the shape and thickness make me conclude that it’s probably a business card.  
“Hold on, what?”  
As I raise my head I realize that I’m the only one standing in the hallway. I quickly take a look around me and run towards the next corner, but the old man’s nowhere to be found. He simply vanished without a trace. Which is honestly not too surprising, remembering how he appeared out of thin air earlier. Still, I did hope for some more explanation. Instead I’m standing in this dark hallway somewhere in the R.I. with nothing but a business card.   
I stand in this hallway for a while, staring at the piece of paper, trying my best to process what happened. It was already hard enough for me to accept that I’m not imagining these ghosts and now I’m supposed to believe this magician is real too? For a moment I think about calling my therapist but then realize it wouldn’t do me any good. I don’t think he would let me go again after I told him that I’m seeing ghosts and people that are not there. And I’m really not up for spending some time in a clinic. Anyways, first I have to figure out where I am. My best shot would be searching for a staircase or a room number since it seems like I'm not near the dance floor. The heavy music is far too quiet for it to be just next door. And since I can see dim light coming out of some of the open doors, which I identify as the light from the street lights, I don't think I'm in the basement. Meaning I am somewhere higher up, maybe at the first or second level of the building. I start looking around, glancing into some of the rooms I pass on my way. Most of them are filled with boxes and unused equipment or some couches and tables. I guess this is part of the backstage and storeroom which means I should find a way out if I follow this hallway. A heavy door at the end of it reads “staircase” with a glowing escape sign above it. Going through it I find that there are at least two more floors above me, more than I would have thought. Though I never actually bothered with counting the floors from the outside. Judging from the way the paint is chipping off the walls and the handrail I figure they’re not in use, at least not very frequently. So I make my way down the stairs, slowly and silently. I don't want to get caught by an employee, or worse, a security guard because I don’t think that I’m supposed to be here. Not that I was supposed to be in the basement either, but I don’t think anybody ever comes to the basement anymore.. It is still strangely quiet as I arrive on the ground floor, the music is still too faint to be anywhere near the stage. I thought it would get louder the further down I get but nothing had changed. Only when I open the door in front of me I get hit with a wave of noise and smells, thick and intense. You can smell the amount of beer that has flown since the R.I. had opened, probably because there are no windows to let some fresh air into the main hall. I glance around the door and am surprised to see the bathrooms not far down the hallway. I look above the door and see a green exit sign hanging over it, telling me this has to be one of the emergency exit routes. Normally they are locked or have a special mechanism on them but this one is just a normal door, just a little heavier. Well, this building is quite old after all. I close the door behind me, just fast enough before a girl with long bright green dread locks comes out of the girl's bathroom. She doesn't seem to notice me though. For the first time in hours I take a deep breath, relaxing my poor tensed up body. I feel like a train had run over me but I guess that's just how you feel after you’ve ran for your life in another dimension.  
Luckily enough I don't run into someone I know, or rather who knows me, on my way out through the crowd of metalheads, punks and goths and neither do I on my bus-ride home. It’s almost 2 am as I turn into our street where my father and I live, freezing for a moment as I notice the lights being on in the flat. Did I forget to turn them off? No, I didn't even turn them on in the first place. The only explanation could be that my father is awake. But why should he still be up at 2am?  
I approach our house slower than ever before, not quite knowing why. It’s not like I have anything to fear. I could just be a little paranoid after what happened earlier but even if, I don’t think these shadows would firstly follow me and secondly be able to reach me outside of the veil. At least I hope so.   
I turn the key and quietly open the door. It’s quiet except for the TV which seems to be showing some kind of documentary. I close the door behind me and carefully walk towards the living room. My father is nowhere to be seen, the only one being here is Rhiannon who is launching on the couch. I turn back to the hallway, spotting a thin line of light coming from the kitchen.   
“Dad?”  
My father turns around to me as I step into the light of the kitchen lamp. He’s holding his worlds-best-dad mug in his hand which, judging from the smell, is filled with hot chocolate.   
“Hey son. You’re home late.”  
He greets me with a smile. Thanks to his high cheekbones and the wrinkles around his eyes it makes him look far older than 46, a fate I will probably suffer as well.   
“Yeah, I helped some friends. What are you still doing up?”  
I’m almost impressed how easily I came up with an excuse but luckily there’s no real need to even need one. My father has never felt the need to exercise control which resulted in me having a lot of freedom. I don’t quite know if it’s thanks to his parenting or just sheer luck but thanks to that we have a very close relationship. We trust each other to the fullest, and trust is something only a handful of parent-children relationships possess.   
“Oh, I was just finishing some work.” He replies in his heavy Irish accent, taking a sip from his hot chocolate. “Do you need something to eat? There’s some leftover spaghetti in the fridge.”  
“No thanks, I rather get some sleep. And you should too.”  
“I plan to, don’t worry.”  
He laughs a little and puts his cup down on the little square desk next to him. I have to admit, he looks a little worn out. But that’s nothing new and nothing surprising. Especially not since I spot a bunch of tests and a red marker next to his mug.   
“But what about you? You look troubled.”  
It shouldn’t surprise me that there’s nothing I could possibly keep from my father, not after living with him for the past 21 years of my life. Still, there’s no way I could possibly explain to him that I’ve just barely escaped certain death thanks to a magical wizard who protected me and two ghosts from shadow creatures from another realm. Phrasing it in my mind like that it really sounds like something straight out of a fairy tale.  
“I’m just tired.”  
I’d really love to tell him but no matter how many scenarios I play through in my head I can’t find one which doesn’t end with him either putting it off and blaming it on my mental problems or him worrying more than would be good for him. So I decide to tell him nothing instead.   
He doesn’t look too convinced, his grey-blue eyes searching for something inside of mine. As he realizes he won’t find anything he ruffles through my hair and reaches for his mug.  
“Good night then. Sleep well.”  
I wish him good night and leave the kitchen, leaving the door ajar so I don’t have to turn on the light to find my door. Finally back in my room I sink down on my bed, letting my bag drop down in front of it. I reach for the card which I put into the pocket of my pants and hold it up above me. Thanks to the streetlights shining into my room I can make out the letters without much effort.   
“Chalon Esoteric – Esoterism shop for the soul. Books, candles, incense, crystals, oils and more.”   
So the weird wizard guy is the owner of an esoterism shop. Sounds a little cliché but on the other hand kind of natural. I would probably do the same, or maybe open a book shop. Always depending on how many people or creatures would be after me. I don’t know much about esoterism except for some bits and pieces. Still, I can vaguely remember me as a kid always bringing home all sorts of stuff I found outside and placing it on the table like some holy shrine. Nobody was allowed to touch it, not even my father. And I always got really mad at Rhiannon for running over them. On the other hand, which kid didn’t collect stones? Maybe it’s something deeply ingrained in our psyche, a human’s need to collect shiny stones. Or maybe we’re all just cave goblins hording our treasures.   
I turn the card and take a look at the address. It’s at the complete other end of the town which I will have to drive to by bus. If I decide to go. Am I really thinking about accepting his invitation? If I can even call that an invitation. The way he phrased it it sounded more like an order. But being honest, what would be the worst that could happen? Except for being murdered by him, I could but lose half a day worth of time. And in return I would find out if whatever is happening is actually real or just a figment of my imagination. I already said that I highly doubt I am able to persuade myself of something like this but I can’t be 100% sure. In the end I am still mentally ill and seeing shadows and suffering from memory loss aren’t details I would ignore in such a matter. Even if the fact that this was the first time I actually interacted with what I am seeing is assuring me a little.  
I just hope that Erika and Alfred are okay.

Grumbling I slap my hand on my phone as my alarm wakes me the next morning. Eyes half open I push the red button to the left to turn it off and flop back into my pillow. It’s always been hard for me to get out of bed but strangely today I am not able to close my eyes again. So, after about half an hour of staring up at my ceiling, I sit up and look out of the window. A thin layer of ice has formed over the night, gleaming in the early morning sun. There’s no fog covering the street and no glowing figures crossing it. Just the regular pedestrian on their way to work. No shadows in the corners, watching. It’s almost if all of this never happened. But I know I did. I still feel the strain in my muscles, the slight pain in my head. The tingling in my hands I felt as I touched her. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this again. I made up my mind. I’ll go.  
I grab my back and hurry out the apartment to get the bus. About 45 minutes later I arrive in a part of the town that almost looks abandoned. Old houses, graffiti, broken windows, plants breaking through the stones of the sidewalk. The only indication of people still living here are some curtains behind the intact windows and a handful of people walking down the street. I focus on the screen of my phone on which I started my navigation app which tells me to walk down the road in front of me. A turn left and another right, a walk of five minutes for me to reach the store which looks exactly how I envisioned it. An old wooden door with engravings on it, big windows to both of its sides decorated with different items like singing bowls and incense. A few wooden figures of various gods and goddesses and pagan symbols decorate the other one. The paint of the house wall is probably supposed to be white but during the years it turned into a dirty beige. No costumers seem to be inside, which is also something I expected, and nobody is in this alley too. I really wonder how he’s able to pay rent for this shop. Instead of letting my thoughts keep me in front of the door I turn the handle and enter the shop. I wall of smells from countless different incense sticks and candles hits me. A few round tables are standing in front of me in the room, various items and cloth laying on it. Plants and candles decorate everything, even the bookshelves to my left. On the right stands a long low cupboard. With a closer look I see countless little baskets laying on it, filled with all kinds of crystals, shells and wood pieces. On the wall opposite to the entrance stands a heavy wooden desk with an old cash register and some books with a giant shelve out of dark wood behind it. The sections of it are small and rectangular with drawers in each of them. On the drawers are labels, reading “Sage”, “Sandalwood”, “Skullkap”, “Sorrel”, “Southernwood”, “Stevia”, “sweet bay”, “sweet cicely” and countless more. Herbs, alphabetically ordered, name’s I’ve never heard before among them. Left to the shelve is a round gateway, possibly leading to the back of the store, covered by a curtain out of wooden pearls. As far as I can see and hear nobody’s around, so I decide to call out to the man who told me to meet him here just yesterday.  
“Hello?”  
No response.  
“Hello?” I call again. “It’s me, from yesterday.”  
Still, no answer. I peek through the gateway, pushing aside the wooden pearls. It’s dark but I can see two doors, one on the right side of the wall and one at the end of it. Faint light is coming through the one on the right but there’s still no sound, no voice to be heard. I decide to walk closer to it, not caring about any kind of stealth, hoping whoever is here would notice me sooner or later. The door isn’t completely shut, allowing me to look inside. It looks like a storage, wooden shelves and closets, filled with figures, boxes, bronze sculptures and more. On the wall stands a desk that resembles the one in the front room. A few candles are burning on it, wax dripping down on the wood. But the room is empty. I open the door fully and take a step inside, investigating a little further, and notice that the only window of the room is covered with a piece of cloth. No surprise it’s so dark in here. I do wonder who in their right mind would leave dripping candles burning on a wooden desk on their own, knowing full well it could start a fire. But I guess someone who is able to shoo away creatures with a simple light wouldn’t have to worry about something so mundane like a fire ravaging through an old house. Concentrating back on the storage again I start to explore the shelves, letting my fingers glide over the wood and some of the bronze ornaments. You can clearly see that they are handmade. No machine could make these details and colours. Even though I have no idea what I am holding in my hand I can’t help but be amazed by its shapes. The strings are intertwining, almost forming a something resembling a triangle. I think I’ve seen something like this before but for now I lay it back down and walk over to the desk. On it I find a tarot deck, laying on a dark red cloth. Left from it are four cards laid out in a sort of cross shape. On the top lays a white card, picturing a blonde man who hangs from a branch with his left foot. The next two cards, who are laying next to each other, are showing three persons kneeling in front of a skeleton wearing a black armour on a white horse and a yellows circle with multiple symbols in it, surrounded by various creatures. Below these three is the last one. It has a yellow background, it’s outlines covered with vines and flowers. In the middle stands a man in a silver robe with long white hair, holding a sceptre in front of a desk with some items on it. A stone, a sword, a kettle and a speer. I can’t explain it but especially the fourth card draws my attention to it. Something about the four items is keeping my eyes on them, wondering what they could mean. The last three could be ritualistic items, but why a stone? What is the man planning on doing with them?  
“You came.”  
My head jolts up, almost throwing me off balance as the same raspy voice I heard yesterday speaks to me from behind. I turn around, facing the man who somehow dragged me out of the veil and gave me his card. To my surprise he’s barely showing any sort of emotion which should be expected when someone just walks into your house. Not that it would be his fault for leaving it unattended.   
“Looks like I did have the right feeling about you?”  
“What do you mean?”  
I lower my eyebrows and take a step back, leaning against the desk. He doesn’t seem to know what personal space is as even though he notices me backing away he doesn’t move an inch.  
“You could’ve waited in the front of the shop or just left. But instead something drew you here. And you followed it.”  
His brown eyes focus on the tarot cards behind me and then back to me, cold and collected as if he was examining a corpse.  
“Look, if you want to confuse me more than I already am you should’ve told me so in the first place because if so I wouldn’t have come here.”  
Actually starting to get pissed by the old guy’s attitude I take a few steps to the side and put my hands into the pockets of my winter jacket. The man stares at me for a few seconds before he chuckles in what could only be described as an unsettling tone of voice. I expect my fear of being murdered to turn into a reality but, to my surprise, he walks around me and pushes the piece of cloth that is covering the window to the side, filling the small room with light. From one second to the next the room worlds more friendly and less menacing.  
“Well then, let’s speak plainly to each other.”  
As he comes back to me he fixes the long dark parka he is wearing over a red pullover. He is dressed more casually than yesterday and definitely more comfortable.   
“Yesterday you crossed over into the space between life and death and if I wouldn’t have happened to be around you’d be dead now.”  
I don’t know what to answer him. Hearing this from someone else equally surprises and reassures me to a point that I don’t even know how to react, blowing away the nerve he hit just a few seconds ago. I guess my look is speaking volumes, loud enough to make him sigh about my frozen face.  
“Come, let’s sit down. Go through the door to the left into the garden.”  
Leaving me there he walks out of the room and turns right, going through the door at the end of the hallway which I conclude from it being slightly ajar as I go back into the hallway. Only hesitantly I do as I’m told and go to the door that apparently leads to his garden. It is smaller than the others, with a milky glass window in it through which I can make out the outlines of a porch. As I walk out I close my eyes for a second and take in the fresh air, the warmth of the winter sun warming up the skin on my arms. The little porch opens to a big garden filled with colours and smells. The leafs of a small tree in the middle of it dance in the breeze together with those of the trees and hedges which are encircling the little piece of heaven behind his shop.  
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”  
The old man leaves the door open behind him, carrying a tray with two cups and a pot on it. The liquid in it is warm as I know from the little bit of steam rising from it, flurrying through the cold autumn air.   
“Tea?”  
He is already on his way to a small iron table with two chairs, setting down the two cups on opposite sides.  
“I hope you like chai.”  
He sits down and points at the chair on the other side of the table. It takes me a few seconds of fighting with myself but I finally walk over and sit down across him. I still can’t shake the bad feeling I have about all of this but on the other hand I really want to know what he has to say.  
“My name is Kaua, would you tell me yours?”  
I keep quiet for a second and look down to the cup, wondering if there is anything in this cup except for tea.  
“Dewain.”  
I know I came here to get some answers and I probably should show a little more cooperation but I can’t help it. I really, really don’t trust this man.  
“Good. Now tell me, Dewain. What do you think about those shadows?”  
I furrow my eyebrows and lean back in my chair. I don’t comprehend what he could possibly get from asking me that but if it gets me closer to understanding what happened I guess I will give him an answer.  
“They freak me out. Especially because even the ghosts seem to be scared of it.”  
“And, being dead, they shouldn’t be afraid of anything.” Kaua finishes my train of thought, watching me closely. “What were you doing there?”  
Finally getting to the point I reach for the cup in front of me and take a leap of faith by taking a sip. It’s a little too bitter for my taste but still surprisingly good, especially remembering the fact that I’m not a big fan of tea.  
“I was looking for the two ghosts you saw yesterday because I wanted to help them move on by uncovering their cause of death. But something went wrong and I ended up in what they called the veil.”  
“What did you do to attract these shadows?”  
I never thought I would have a conversation like that. Processing our conversation I realize how much all of this could be straight out of a comic or movie, something the hero would be asked just before he would start his journey to save the world. Which is why it takes me a little to get my thoughts together.  
“I’m not quite sure. I opened one of the windows which freaked them out and shortly after we heard screaming.”  
I see Kaua’s eyes dart back and forth between something I can’t see as I try to bring together what I experienced in the R.I. . There’s something about the way he acts, how he looks. I don’t know what it is but I have the feeling he already knows what’s going on.  
“So by interacting with something outside of the dimension you attracted their attention.” the old man mumbles as he strokes through his full beard, focusing his eyes on mine. “Did you notice anything out of the ordinary before this happened?”  
I laugh, making Kaua lower his eyebrows in confusion.  
“I’ve slipped into another dimension, talked and even touched ghosts and got saved from disgustingly ugly shadows by an old man with a magic staff. Please define ‘out-of-the-ordinary’.”  
To my surprise he starts to laugh too and leans his head on his interlaced fingers.  
“Hearing voices, seeing things that aren’t there, smelling and hearing things others can’t, having unusual sensations, getting stuck in another dimension... I have a lot of examples. Want to hear more?”  
Even if a random person passing by wouldn’t have heard anything of our conversation up until now, they would clearly see that my expression amuses the man sitting across the table. A smug grin is covering his face, something that throws me off more than I would like to admit. I really, really, really don’t trust this guy. And his attitude.  
“You think you are crazy, right? That what you experience isn’t real.”  
His look drills into the deepest parts of my conscience. He knows what I’m thinking and he lets me feel it.  
“Tell me, do you know anything about your family?”  
“My family?” I repeat, my forehead frowned in thought. “What does this have to do with what happened?”  
“Do you?”  
I focus for a moment on what I remember as Kaua takes a sip of his tea.   
“It really isn’t much. I know that my father’s side is from Ireland and descendants of an old Celtic family. But that’s about everything. My mother left me when I was still an infant and my grandparents are either dead or broke contact. So no, I don’t.”  
“That’s what I expected.”  
I stare at the man in front of me, trying, searching for something on his face that would tell me he’s not completely pulling my leg. But there’s nothing. Again completely cold he just sits there, watching me.  
“I’m going to leave now.”  
Having enough of his act I stand up, grabbing my bag which I have leaned against the leg of the chair and walk towards the door which has fallen shut on its own. Only when I reach for the handle and push it down Kaua raises his voice, getting me to stop.  
“They’re telling you you’re crazy, am I right?”  
Hating myself for it I turn back around, my hand still on the handle. Neither of us says anything for a good minute until the old man stands up and closes the distance between us.  
“Let me show you something.”  
I still don’t trust him but by now I figured out that he does indeed know something. And I really want to know what. So I follow him, back inside the house. In the hallway we turn left, taking the circular staircase in a little corner next to the door Kaua went through earlier, climbing to the first floor of the building. The whole house is filled with candles and branches, self-made tapestry and symbols on the walls. I see another set of stairs leading to a second floor but Kaua goes left into a brightly lit room. For its size it’s filled with a surprisingly huge number of bookshelves and tables, papers scattered all over them. I see an old ink pot with a feather in it next to an open book, a few ink stains on a white towel that’s laying next to it.   
“Over here.”  
Kaua grabs an old, heavy book from one of the shelves and lays it on the table, not bothering about the other books and pieces of paper that are already laying there. It’s at least twice the size of all the other books I can see with a leather binding. Nothing is written on its cover to reveal what could be inside but it looks like I don’t have to bother anyways. As Kaua opens the book and goes through the pages I can’t read a single word. It’s written in all kinds of different languages, some I haven’t seen before although I recognize a lot of foreign writings. But these I can’t read, or understand at that, which is why I can only imagine what they are about. There are some illustrations between the text paragraphs of trees in weird shapes, animals and creatures straight out of a nightmare, places, structures and other symbols. The old man finally stops not far away from the last pages, opening a side with a big illustration of some kind of portal or doorway on it. It’s the first time I am able to read something in this book, though he was turning the pages too fast for me to read them anyways. Its headline reads “The secrets of the Seer”. I don’t know what it means with Seer but it seems to be a text about individuals with special abilities as I conclude from the bits I pick up as I skim through the lines.  
“This book is ancient. It belonged to many very gifted men and women during the past centuries. I would say it even is one of the oldest books in human history.”  
I trace the outlines of the book with my fingertips. I can’t describe the tingly sensation I feel as I touch the binding and pages but it reminds me a lot of what I felt when I touched Erika. It’s like when you hold your hand over an electric fence, far enough not to get hurt but close enough to feel the energy.  
“The knowledge in it is far beyond measurable and any value.”  
“And what do you want to tell me by showing me this?”  
I raise my head and look at the tall man standing next to me. He was watching me the whole time, again standing way too close to my liking.  
“What do you think?”  
I look back down to the book, carefully setting my fingers on the hand-written text.  
“I guess you are telling me...” I stop as my fingertips start to feel weird again, hold them up to take a look at them. “...that this has something to do with me?”  
It’s more a question than an answer which results in no response coming from Kaua. Instead I register a shuffling noise. I turn around and see him going through some of the other books, taking them out of the shelves or stacks, laying them on another one when it’s not the book he was looking for. In the end he is rummaging through a drawer of another smaller desk, pulling out a little notebook that looks like it’s at least a century old.  
“Every human being has the ability to sense the otherworldly. Some are able to do more than that.”  
He opens the book nearly perfectly in the middle and starts to turn the pages, slow enough for me to see after I walked up next to him.  
“There are people who can do even more than that. These people are called Seer.”  
As he goes through the pages of the old notebook I see illustrations of shamans, medicine mans, priestesses, spiritual leaders from all kinds of eras and cultures.  
“This is the modern term. There have been countless names for people like you throughout history. But while humanity continued its progress towards science and technology, it forgot it’s spiritual roots. Your people haven’t”  
I rip my eyes off the illustrations and lock my eyes on him.  
“Why are you referring to them as my people? Aren’t you part of all this too?”  
“Partially.”  
As reaction to my remark he closes the book, staring at it’s blank cover as I try to figure out whatever is going on inside of his head and how he could possibly think I’d just believe all of this.  
“There are people who thirst for more than peace and balance. Just like ungifted humans they long for power and influence. This resulted in them splitting into two different groups.”  
I don’t quite understand what he is talking about but I don’t want to interrupt him, so I keep quiet and let him talk.   
“These groups are in a constant fight. I decided to keep out of their little kindergarten and head out on my own.”  
Sounds believable. No matter where you’re from, what your abilities are and how old you are. There will always be people who want to be better than anybody else and they are willing to achieve their goals with any means necessary. In my eyes he did the right thing by turning his back to all of it.  
“You said you were able to open the window?”  
Pushing this apparently depressing topic aside Kaua focuses back on me as he sits down in an armchair in front of a giant bookshelf.   
“Well, that’s something I can’t do.”  
A little baffled I close my eyes and shake my head, taking a few seconds to process until I reply.  
“You’re telling me you can tell these shadows off like it’s nothing but you can’t open a window?”  
Almost looking tired he leans his head on his right arm, scanning every bit of my body which does start to make me feel uncomfortable.  
“I can sense and hear the ghosts, interact with them and enter the veil. But that’s about it. I can’t touch anything inside, let alone move it.”  
I lean against the desk on which the book we just went through still lays, confused and at a loss of words.  
“So, what does this mean?”  
Kaua keeps looking at me from the corner of his eyes but I can’t return his gaze. Every time I do a strange shiver runs through my body.  
“You’re talented, maybe even more than I am.” He starts, letting his eyes wander through the room. “You can either keep going like before, wandering alone, being told you’re crazy. Or you could let me show you how to channel your abilities.”  
This is crazy. It’s absolutely crazy. It can’t be real. I know that I told myself all of this has to be real not long ago. And I would have accepted it if he had simply told me that ghosts are real. But this is too much for me to handle.   
“This is your only chance.”  
My mind racing I notice my vision going blurry, almost like it does when I stand up too fast in the morning. I don’t know what to do or if I even could go back to my “former” life after yesterday. But I don’t want to run from it just to get stuck in another fix like yesterday. Like he said, this is my only chance. And I don’t think I’ll be as lucky as I was yesterday the next time these things are coming after me. And they will because I am not planning on leaving Erika and Alfred and all the other ghosts down there.   
“I’m in.”


	5. Darkness

I feel my chest rising faster than before. There’s an unusual sensation of nervousness going from my heart through my entire body, making my hands shiver just the tiniest bit. I wouldn’t say it’s because I’m scared. It’s the excitement, allowing myself to leave my future in the hands of someone else. Kaua, still staring at me like he has done so for a few minutes now, turns his motionless face into a satisfied smile.

“Then let me welcome you to your new life.”

Hearing him say it like that makes my skin crawl. It feels like being introduced into a whole new world of which I have no knowledge about. Like a baby that has to learn how to walk and talk. Which probably isn’t that far away from what I will have to face from now on.

“Starting from today I will teach you everything I know. I want you to come here every morning at Seven.”

“Jeez, that’s early.”

In this moment I learned that you should never talk back to him. With only a glare I feel my body freezing up and my breath stopping. I don’t know what he is doing but it frightens me and I wonder if I made the right decision.

“Seven in the morning, got it.”

His expression changes back to what I will call his usual dead face and he let’s go of my body. At the moment I can’t decide what’s scarier. The fact he’s able to make my whole body freeze up or how he is able to change his demeanour in mere seconds.

“Good then. I have something to do today so you can go home for now. Prepare yourself and come in comfortable clothes. If you happen to need something, call me.”

I don’t know how to feel about this. While he showed me through the library he sparked every bit of my interest and curiosity, but now it feels like I sold myself to slavery. And what does he mean with calling him? It’s not like there’s a phone number on his card. My goodness, by the looks of it I don’t think he even has a phone, let alone a mobile phone.

But he just leaves me there. In one moment he’s sitting on his chair, in the next he’s gone. It takes him only a blink to disappear into nothingness. I have no clue where he went but I find the house empty and the front door unlocked.  
On my way back to the bus stop I let my mind wander, trying to make sense of what he could mean with “preparing”. What should I prepare for? Workout? Torture? It could be literally anything so he can’t possibly expect me to understand what he meant with that. Whatever it will be I hope it won’t cost me my life.  
In the end I spend the day gathering more information about ghosts and apparitions on youtube. I know I know, not the most trustworthy source of information but what even is in this modern age? Strangely enough Rhiannon decides to grace me with her company, pushing my door open with her tiny nose only to stare at me for a few seconds. If I wouldn't know better I’d say it looks like she's thinking about something. Or that she noticed something strange behind me. Out of reflex I look behind me but all I see is my blank white wall and the pillow at the end of my bed.

“You know you need to stop staring into the void, it makes me nervous.” I mutter towards her as I turn my head back around.  
The cat is now sitting and licking over one of her paws, brushing it over one of her ears to clean it. When she's done she hops up on to my bed to make herself comfortable on my lap. It's a rare thing, usually she avoids human contact, even with my dad. But from time to time she decides that getting some head and chin scratches can be nice too. Looks like these times are getting more regular now. Even though she’s a weird cat, I love her. Her amber-green eyes always seem to know what you are feeling. She knows when I’m sad and need her comfort. It’s nearly like an instinct, as if she could feel my emotions and thoughts. Maybe that’s why she’s here now too. She sensed the storm that is my thoughts and chose to come over and calm me down. And as weird as it sounds, she has always been the one I could pour my heart out too. Ellen too of course, but there are some things I’d rather not tell her. Like me seeing ghosts and shadow creatures that want to devour us. Thinking about it, I still don’t know what they are. I think this will be my first question for tomorrow.

“You don’t happen to know anything about shadow creatures that want to consume us, don’t you Rhiannon?”

She fixes her eyes on me with an abnormally strange look, one I haven’t seen on her before. Well, if you can judge a cat’s expression because they rarely have any. All I’ve ever seen on her is relaxed, happy or angry. That’s about it. I’m not a biologist but I don’t think cats have much of a facial expression, at least not like us humans. And yet it seems like something is bothering her. She stares at me for a few more seconds before she stands up and slowly hops down to the floor. I guess I said something wrong because she strolls out of my room, not even looking back at me. Which is why I don’t interpret this as a sign to follow her. I guess this was as much attention as she wanted to give me today. Truly, a strange cat.

I press play on the next video. It is interesting and calming to see that there are more people out there who believe in what I experienced. To my surprise the victim they interview in the video talks about a shadow figure following and finally attacking her. My attention sparked I turn up the volume and listen as carefully as I possibly can. She describes it as a tall figure, darker than anything else in the pitch-black room. Even though she was standing in absolute darkness she was still able to see it in front of her, changing shape as it moved until it suddenly rushed towards her. She screamed and ran out of the room and never again returned to the building. But now with paranormal investigators at her side she returned to the room of the attack. They take out one of the many electrical devices they use to communicate with the spirits. For a few seconds all they hear is static noise but after the woman asks into the room who attacked her something starts to come through.

“Shoosh Rhiannon, I am trying to listen!”

It’s really hard to make out any words when there is a cat in the next room literally screaming for attention. I hear a loud thud as something in the living room falls to the ground, again covering the few seconds in which they repeat the response that came through the device. Luckily they replay it again a few times but that still doesn’t help me as Rhiannon doesn’t stop meowing. When I finally give in and stand up she stops, hearing my steps seemingly quieting her down. I sigh as I open my door further so I can pass through. But right as I take the first step out the door I finally make out what is being said in the video. My eyes widen as I turn around, looking into the investigators face as he repeats what the voice said.

“A demon!”

I feel my limbs freeze. Every little bit of heat is being drained out of my body, making me feel every heartbeat in every inch of my body. I don’t hear what they say afterwards, my mind drifting off as I suddenly see a shadow in the corner of my eyes. I turn my head to look at the corner of my room where I saw it but as quickly as it appeared it disappeared again. Before my thoughts can keep spinning Rhiannon starts to scream again. I turn around and see her standing in the hallway, looking at me with impatience. She darts back into the living room and finally, after literally ripping my body around, I follow her. At first everything looks normal. The coffee table is meticulously organized, the couch filled with pillows. The plants that fill the room are all standing at their places and the shelve for the CD’s is just as I left it. My body still completely frozen over I notice a book lying on the ground next to the massive book shelve my father cherishes so much. He owns so many books that he had to buy a fourth one and there are still books laying around that don’t fit into it anymore. I walk over and pick up the book from the ground, quickly noticing that it’s one I’ve never seen before. There’s no title on the dark brown worn out cover but judging from its condition it seems like it has been used for quite some time with the pages being already tinted in a yellowish colour. At first it is only gibberish, something about unwritten rules and the dangers of not following the light’s path. But after a few pages it starts to get interesting. Rhiannon rubs her head against my left leg as I turn to a page with the headline “Demonology”. I feel a drop of sweat run down my temple. There is no way this is a coincidence. There is no way, not at all. No way. Whoever, or, whatever, threw down that book knows what is going on. The question now is, is it a warning or a clue. I look down to Rhiannon who sat down next to me, watching me going through the pages. There is something in her eyes I can’t quite make out. Could she have possibly dug out that book? No, probably not. I mean, I heard that cats have an affinity for magic and paranormal but she is still just a cat. On the other side I am questioning why we even have that book in our possession. So I kneel down to her and meet her gaze.

“Did you want me to find this book?”

She just keeps staring at me, the amber traces in her green eyes flickering from the streetlights that shine through the curtains into the living room. Could she have something to do with all this? By this I don’t mean what is happening in general but with the experiences I have in this house. Things disappearing and appearing in different locations, just when I need them. Clues and little hints scattered everywhere, placed at the right time at the right spot. Not to mention that I did notice that she seems to be able to see what I see, or at least feel it. There has been that one time, a few years ago when I started to see them more regularly. There was a shadow lingering in the corner across my bed and I was absolutely terrified. Dad wasn’t home so the apartment was empty and I had no one to run to for help. That’s when I heard scratching on my door. I slowly backed away and turned the handle, barely able to open the door before Rhiannon squeezed herself through and jumped in front of me, hissing and growling at the monster in my room. It surprised me that the creature started to disappear into the wall behind it but I was equally happy that that little ball of fur managed to scare me off. I don’t know how she did that but it was the first clue to what I was seeing was actually real and not simply in my head.

I reach out a hand and scratch the spot between her ears she loves so much, making her purr and lean into my touch.

“You were always looking out for me, didn’t you?”

As a response she nudges the inside of my hand and sits back, looking at me again with a seriousness behind her eyes. Her tail wags from side to side, remembering me of the dangerous creature in my room. She is right, what I am seeing is serious. And I don’t think it is a ghost. I quickly go through the pages of the book until I find an illustration. It looks very close to what I have seen in the tunnels and, now that I’m paying attention to it, the thing in my room. Or out on the streets. Or in the gym hall. These things, they are everywhere.

“These shadow-like creatures are one of the many forms demonic creatures can take on to disguise their true form. Though they look like a mere shadow of a person they are far from that. In this state they can hide in the corners of darkness...” I begin reading aloud, tracing the lines with my fingers. “...not louring you in by mimicking but frightening every fibre of your being. The two forms they can appear in are the one indicated by cold and the other by heat. From experience the cold ones are calmer than the heated ones. They usually stay in the background and watch. The one with heat are far more aggressive and violent. Both of them seem to have immense kinetic abilities and are able to influence the mind of the unwary. They are also prone to possess vessels so the exorcist needs to execute caution.”

My eyes dart over to the living room door as I hear something shuffling in the hallway. Rhiannon doesn’t seem to be bothered by it but I see the hair of her tail and her back standing up.

“But they feel cold.” I whisper, looking back down to my not so little furry friend. “Then why are they so aggressive?”

I turn the next page but everything afterwards is some holy gibberish I am not interested. But even if I wanted to continue reading I wouldn’t be able to. The horrible sound of claws dragging along a wall makes my bones shiver, freezing me in place once again. If this wasn’t already horrible enough I hear it calling out to me. A hissing, echoing through the hallway into this room. It wants me to join it. Its voice digs into my brain, inaudible to my ears. Shivering I put the book down and slowly turn my head to the door. A darkness pushes in from the hallway like a thick fog, swallowing the little bit of light coming from the streets and my room on its way. A set of sharp claws comes around the corner and grabs the door frame, gripping down so hard that it leaves cracks in the wood. In this moment I see Rhiannon turning around, every hair on her body standing up as her eyes fix on the face of the creature that is peeking into the room. Eyes hollow, glowing faintly as they fix on me.

_“Come...”_

Rhiannon arches her back and hisses at it but the creature doesn’t seem to care. It reaches it inhumanly long arm further around, sliding along the wall like a snake. The way it seems to push its way along the wall disgusts me, making my insides turn even though I haven’t eaten anything so far.

I am frozen in fear like last night in the tunnels beneath the R.I. . And even if I would be able to move I wouldn’t know where to go. That thing is blocking the only way out and I don’t think I would survive a jump from the second floor. I look down to Rhiannon but even she starts retreating. Her growls are deeper now, trying to intimidate the shadow that is pushing its way further into the room. Its darkness is sucking out every last bit of light left and with it comes the cold. We should’ve run when we still had the chance I think to myself as I grab my hissing cat and push myself into the farthest corner. She claws at my arm, trying to get back down, but I couldn’t care less. There’s no way I’d let her get hurt, or worse. I don’t even notice the pain, everything in my mind is concentrated on staying as far away from that thing and its irresistible words. Which is getting harder by the second.

_“Come, Seer...”_

The last word seems to make something click in my head. Of course. The thing is right, even though I wonder how it could possibly know. I’m a Seer. So I should be able to do something about this, right? Remember, what did Kaua down in the R.I. . He cast a light to chase the shadows away with his staff. Maybe, if I concentrate, I’ll be able to do something similar.  
Taking a deep breath I do my best to calm down and relax my grip on Rhiannon who abruptly jumps down from my arms, using her chance to get back in front of me as a (very tiny) shield. By now the room is pitch black, all that is left is the glowing pair of eyes that is creeping closer to me, reaching out from the wall with its unnaturally long claws, body twisting and turning like nothing I have ever seen. Realizing my cat, again, has thrown herself into danger I reach for the growling ball of fur and pull her close to my chest. To my surprise she doesn’t fight, on the contrary. Feeling her warmth against my chest I close my eyes and try to focus. I am not quite sure what to focus on, or what to do for that matter, but the first thing I am able to fix on are the shapes appearing in front of my eyelids. A trick I tended to use when my anxiety started to kick in back in school. Their movement is soothing and calming, just like now. And the more I calm myself down the lighter they get. Colours of red and white, mixing together in ever-changing shapes, growing and unfolding until a white light starts to fill and finally swallow my vision, infusing words into the back of my mind.

“I walk in circles of light.”

As I reopen my eyes I realize that the light isn’t only imaginary. It is surrounding me in a small circle, just big enough to surround my body. I look over to where the creature was before I closed my eyes and, to my amazement, it stopped. It has pressed itself against the wall, hiding its head behind it’s long deformed arms. Now fully exposed I realize how ugly this thing actually is. Its bony body is covered in a leathery dark skin. Its limbs are far too long with far too many joints. I think even a spider has less. It hisses and claws onto the wall, growling out curses in a language I don’t understand. I don’t waste more time staring at it than necessary though and slowly walk around in the biggest circle I can possibly make. Having Rhiannon still in my arms I dart towards the apartment door the moment I take the first step into the hallway. I don’t waste a single thought in getting anything as I slam the door shut behind me, running down the stairs and out the house’s door. But even here I don’t feel safe and neither does Rhiannon. To show that she fights herself out my arms with a distressed meow and darts down the street. I follow her as best as I can, just as a horrible scream echoes through the neighbourhood from our apartment. Not pained. Angry.

“We better get as far away from here as possible.”

I honestly don’t care where we are going. Even if we end up getting lost I will be able to guide us back, or at least to someplace I know, with the help of my phone. But after all this I don’t know if I’ll feel safe at home again. If there even is a place where I am safe from these things.  
We’d love to stop running but not even half a minute after leaving our little apartment complex I notice that thing following us down the road. So we keep running, snarling and groaning behind us, no matter how many turns we take. I don’t know what time it is but judging from us being the only people around I’d say it’s past 21. That’s only a guess though since our house is located at the outer districts of town so there is literally no one on these streets anyways. We pass house after house, lights switched on inside, shining out the windows but none of them seem to notice what is happening right in front of their doorstep. Before we run around the next corner I take a glance behind us. I hoped to see an empty street and it looked like it at first. But then, just behind the light cone of one of the streetlights, I see a pair of white eyes staring at me. I can’t keep running for much longer, my legs already starting to feel numb and give in. Even Rhiannon is panting as I stop to lean against a garden fence, looking back at me as she realizes I am not following her anymore. I can’t, I am done. My legs won’t move anymore. Not even as I see the shadow creeping around the corner at the end of the street. Rhiannon hops over to me and sits down, keeping her eyes on the creature, seemingly keeping it away with her last bit of strength. At least that’s how it looks to me. Maybe it simply decided to go slower to creep me out even more. In the end it’s the fact of her staying with me still that is the strangest. But it gives me time to gather enough energy to pull me back to my feet. Even if my throat hurts with every breath I have to keep going. Barely able to stand I take another look to the corner, realizing that it has already crossed half the distance. I try to focus and call back the light that got us out of the living room but my racing mind isn’t working well enough. It’s no use, I am in too much panic. I wish Kaua was here. He is the only one who could help us now. But there is no way to contact him. I have no idea where he is and no way of getting to him.

“Come on, you found me last time. Please.”

I form a last wish before I look back to the creature that will probably swallow me whole in a few moments. I don’t know if Rhiannon will be spared but if I’d get a last wish that would be it. Deciding to safe my last bit of energy for something useful I kneel down to the little red cat and try to push her away, signalling her to get away from here. But no matter what I do she won’t budge. Instead she presses herself closely against my leg, eyes still focused on the inhuman thing. Realizing it’s no use I sigh and follow her look, even if it is hard for me to keep my eyes on one point for long. It’s still coming closer, slouched down to the floor, limbs stretched out to the sides. Watching it as it crawls closer makes me feel sick. It looks so hideous and disgusting that I feel like I’m going to throw up any minute. And topping all of that it lets it’s far too long, pointed tongue roll out of its mouth, revealing dozens of sharp shark like teeth.

_“Got you now...”_

I want to push myself back with my hands, grab whatever I can to pull myself back up, but my limbs won’t move. Every part of my body is shivering, fear’s icy grip around my throat until I am unable to move. I can’t even scream. All that’s left for me to do is watch it come closer and closer. Rhiannon is still fixed to my side, doing her best to try to keep it away with her growls. Her tail hits my leg every time she swings it to the left. Right now she’s the only thing keeping me from ending up between that thing’s teeth.

_“It won’t hurt...”_

Its hissing voice is low but it still pierces through my ears with a sharp pain. I try to keep one eye on it as it comes crushing in on my head, making my vision go blurry and flickery like it does when I stand up too quickly. In order to shield my ears I press both of my hands over them. But that was a mistake. Before I can even react the creature suddenly reaches for one of my legs with its long sharp claws, ripping open my pants as it closes them around it and yanks me towards it.

_“Not for long...”_

I let out a startled scream, pushing my hands against the ground and kicking its arm with my free foot, trying my best to get free. But it probably doesn’t even feel anything from that. Rhiannon jumped to the side the moment it got too close, visibly fighting with herself while her whole body shivers from the tension. I wish I’d have more time to care about her but the creature isn’t giving me even a second to get distracted. Instead I get dragged further down the street, away from the light of the streetlamps. I throw my upper body around and grab one of the bricks that the walkway is made from, trying to claw into it and work against the creature’s force but it is too strong. My fingers can’t hold me long enough to even think about pulling me back. By now I am close enough to smell its foul breath which is a mix of sewage and decaying body. Something slippery wraps itself around the leg that it is already holding, spreading over my exposed skin. I don’t look down; I don’t want to see it. But it hurts. It hurts so much that it feels like it is burning the flesh off my bone. I am screaming from the top of my lungs, wondering why no one is hearing me. Why isn’t anyone noticing what is happening out here? Why is nobody stumbling into this street? It’s not like this is an abandoned district or a ghost town. The houses are filled with people. People who should be able to see and hear me. And that thing.

“Kaua, please.”

I close my eyes, trying to concentrate as hard as I can, calling out to him again as a last resort. I am not sure if it’s going to work, in the end it’s not like he’s something like an all-knowing god. But what else am I supposed to do?

For a moment everything is quiet. The pain burns itself up my left leg, a pained cry for help going through the street as another claw grips into it. I scream for my life, thinking about fighting it but I quickly come to the conclusion that that would just be wasted energy.  
And yet, before the thought of giving in gets the chance to form inside my head a loud thump vibrates the ground beneath us. I fling my eyelids open as I feel the grip around my legs loosen. Just in time to see a wide dark cape shielding me. It is still swinging from the impact of whatever made the noise and startled away the creature. Another loud thump follows but this time I see what it is. Kaua’s large wooden staff hits the ground, making it shake again. The man pulls back the hood that is covering his dark hair and holds something up with his other hand which I can’t quite see since his back is faced towards me.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immunde spiritus, omni satanica 

potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii.”

As he raises his powerful voice a loud shriek sounds through the streets. I see Rhiannon tensing up from the corner of my eyes and manage to pull myself up even though the air gets so heavy that it is hard for me to keep my head up. I see the creature, being far too close to us than I would like it to be. But with Kaua standing between us like a giant tower it doesn’t feel as threatening as before. 

“Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomini etvirtute Domini nostri Jesu Christi.”

The creature writhes beneath his words, screeching and howling. The sight is horrifying, it’s screams go right through my bones. Step by step it moves backwards, trying to get away from the words, pressing it’s claws against its head. But there is no way to escape.

“Eradicare et effugare a Dei Ecclesi, ab Animabusad

Imaginem Dei conditis ac pretioso divini Agni sanguini 

redemptis!”

As he ends, shouting the last words with all of his strength, the creature lets out a last horrible scream, cursing and wincing, before it slowly dissolves like smoke.

I can’t believe what I just saw. I am still staring at the spot where that thing was crouching, just a second ago. Now it’s just, gone. As if it’s never been here in the first place.  
Breathing just a little heavier the mountain of a man turns around to me. To my surprise his left hand is empty, meaning he wasn’t holding anything out but his bare hand. Stroking back that streak of hair that fell into his face mid-way of crushing the creature with his words he relaxes his posture, staring down at me in what I can only describe as disappointment.

“I told you to call for me if you anything happens.”

His face is drawn with anger but his voice is telling me otherwise. Something worried, scared.

“I’m-”

I can’t seem to get anything out besides that. I try to gesture something with one of my hands since I need the other one to keep my body up but that doesn’t help either. Kaua stares me down, standing right beneath the light of a streetlamp. I’m probably looking horrible. Sweaty, worn out, messy hair, dark circles beneath my eyes and shaking wildly. And my face, pale like a ghost, it also looks like I am going to faint any minute. Not to mention the trails of blood I left behind as that thing dragged me across the ground.

“Hey, easy there.”

I don’t even notice that my arm gives in. I see the world tilting upwards but without any strength left I am not quick enough to catch myself. Kaua does so instead, lowering me slowly so I don’t hit my head on the ground. He doesn’t let me lay there though. Careful not to hurt me he puts his arms around me and brings me over to one of the garden fences, sitting me down against it. While I am still trying to figure out where I am he turns around and goes over to Rhiannon. He kneels down in front of her, holding out his hand to let her sniff it. Her tensed up body slowly relaxes, at least I think so not being able to see clearly with my blurry vision. Usually she doesn’t like to be hold, especially not by someone she doesn’t know. But for some reason Kaua seems to be an exception. The old man carefully grabs her beneath her front legs and pulls her up, holding her against his chest. She even starts to purr, ears up and the tail slowly wagging.

“You traitor.” I whisper to her, eyes formed into a thin line.

Kaua doesn’t quite understand, looking down to my cat as she returns the gaze and gives him a slow blink. A sign of trust and affection. She really is a traitor.

“This is your cat?”

I nod, trying to lift me a bit further up to get into a more comfortable sitting position. I don’t dare to think about standing up though. Not only because I don’t have the strength to do so but also because my leg still feels like it is hanging into a pool of lava. So I close my eyes, trying to breathe instead of screaming and crying out.

“Okay, breathe.”

I feel Kaua next to me. In all of this icy darkness his warmth radiates like ten suns, helping me to focus my mind as I fear the worst. I claw into the bricks beneath me, bracing myself for the pain that’s going to come. Even though Kaua doesn’t do much besides pulling up the cloth of my pants it feels like he just peeled my skin off. I scream and wince, tears falling down my jaw. That’s when I notice how heavy the cloth of my pants is, soaked with the blood I didn’t know I was losing. Kaua grabs my shoulder and pulls me back. I try my best to open my eyes and focus them at him. He looks older. His wrinkles are deeper and the circles beneath his eyes are darker. But it’s not because of the light that is shining on us from above. It’s something inside of him, working him up so much that it makes him look at least twenty years older.

“Look at me. I know it hurts like hell but you need to push through this.”

With my watery eyes I see a rolled up piece of fabric in his other hand, making me understand immediately. I clench it between my teeth and close my eyes again, taking a last deep breath before Kaua goes back to pushing up the ripped pants. Muffled screams fill the area while the blood slowly starts to form a little puddle beneath my leg. I hear the old man getting something out of his bag, followed by the sound of a jack knife opening. One of his hands reach over to my other leg, grabbing it just before he quickly cuts off a large part of my pants which is long enough to wrap around just above the injury.

“We need to go, now. If this stuff spreads you’ll lose your whole leg. Or worse.”

That’s definitely not what you want to hear in a moment like this. And yet it’s exactly the way he phrases it that gets me back on my feet. Our eyes meet as he supports me with his right arm but there’s nothing to see in his. He’s probably seen something like this countless of times already so the look of panic in my face is nothing new to him.

“Are you able to walk with me?”

Having the fabric still between my teeth disables me from answering, so I nod. He slowly takes a step forward, small enough for me to follow, Rhiannon trotting along next to us. I am thankful for that since I wouldn’t be able to keep up if he would set the pace. On the other hand, we aren’t really getting that far. After what seems like an eternity we have only reached the crossroads at the end of this street. I start to lose the feeling in my left leg and even though Kaua cut off most of the blood supply to the wound I am still losing too much of it.

“Fuck, he won’t make it this way.”  
I hear him mumble beneath his breath, probably not expecting me to hear it. But he’s right. I’m close to slipping out of consciousness, my vision is almost completely dark. There is no way I could keep going. Without a warning Kaua sets his other arm under my legs and swings me up into his arms, holding me close to his chest. Being shaken awake I manage to focus my eyes, seeing Rhiannon jumping on top of his shoulders like she does with my dad. But that’s all I can make out clearly. Everything else is blurry, colours smudged together like they do when you move at a high speed. Next thing I know the voice of a woman is getting through to, rushed and panicked

“Good gods, what happened?!”

I don’t know her voice and I don’t understand her clearly. I want to look up but I have the feeling that as soon as I open my eyes my stomach will empty itself.

“He’s been attacked. Asha he needs your help, whatever it applied to his wound is already spreading.”

Without hesitation the woman runs off and starts searching around in drawers and boxes. I get laid down on a desk after she pushed everything that was laying on it on the floor. It is hard and cold, making me take in a sharp breath through my nose as my injured leg meets the cold wood. I am still biting down on the fabric and I don’t give a fuck about how this must look.

“When I give you the sign you need to free the blood supply to the wound.” I hear her saying hastily while she grinds something down in a mortar. “And you need to promise me that you will hold him down.”

I don’t see what is happening around me but I hear the shuffling as the both of them take their places. Kaua’s big hands press down on both of my legs while the woman starts to chant something in a language I don’t know. Before I can brace myself something cold flushes over my wound, making me groan and arch my back from the burning sensation. Thanks to Kaua, who is doing a really good job holding me in position, I’m not able to escape. Still chanting the woman’s voice grabs my attention. It’s a soothing melody that slowly starts to take my thoughts away from the pain in my leg. Pictures of endless fields and rivers flood my mind, birds flying across a colourful sky. In the distance a rumbling from thick dark clouds, lightning shooting down to the ground. The wind brings the rain over to me, washing down my face. I close my eyes and lean my head back. I’m not cold or warm. In fact, I don’t feel anything. Only the wind playing with my hair and the rain running down my face. I don’t think I’ve ever been so calm in my entire life.

“Now.”

Her voice breaks through the clouds above me. I feel the pressure in my leg disappear but as quickly as it goes an unbearable pain takes its place. With her hands she presses something down on my wound, making me jerk my head back and drop the piece of fabric, now being able to scream for as long as I have air left in my lungs The woman starts chanting again but this time it doesn’t take me on a journey with her. It’s filled with panic, too fast, I can’t even follow her words. Not that I could before.

“Keep holding him.”

Another wave of pain shakes my body. Something soft gets wrapped around the part of my leg that got ripped apart. And I think, finally, the torture is over. After that all I hear is heavy breathing, Kaua slowly softening his grip on my legs. Man, I’ll probably have bruises the size of his hands after him holding me down that tightly. I take a deep breath in and out, doing my best to calm my racing heartbeat. Sweat is running down my forehead but that doesn’t seem to gross the woman out as she lays her hand over my forehead and cheeks, probably checking my temperature.

“Better than I expected. He will run a fever soon so we should get him somewhere more comfortable. Can you carry him to the sofa in the back?”

I manage to open my eyes a bit. I can’t see much through my fuzzy sight but the black dreadlocks that appear in my vision for a second stick with me. The next thing I see is Kaua leaning down to me, again wrapping me into his arms as he carries me away. He lowers me down on what feels like a mountain of cushions and fur, soft and warm. An equally soft blanket gets wrapped around me just before something cold meets my forehead.

“We should let him rest now.”

“Thanks Asha.”

~

Soft light tickles on my cheeks as I fight to open my eyes. It’s the most peaceful way I’ve ever woken up. No nightmares, no unexplained waking up, no startling noises. It’s almost scary to not be in a panic as soon as you open your eyes.  
Every inch of my body hurts as I try to push myself up. Besides the burning sensation from my leg I feel a heaviness dragging my limbs back down, like a muscle hangover from an intense workout. Not that I ever did such a thing. That’s only how I imagine it to feel. And nothing surprising thinking about the marathon I ran through the cold yesterday.

Thinking about the cold night air biting at my face’s skin makes me notice something that throws me off. There’s a warm breeze coming from a window not far from me, wind chimes ringing as it brushes past them. Bright sunlight is coming from outside, filling the room with warm colours. I see tapestries and silk hanging from the walls and shelves, dozens of what look like artifacts and tools laying around on tables and cupboards. I don’t know what to make of them but no matter what they are, something in this room is radiating such a peaceful energy that I can’t feel anything but relaxed. Only when I hear voices from the other room I decide to push through the pain and get up. As I do so I swing my legs down to the ground and notice my left being covered in bandages. Thankfully since I am really not into the mood to see a nasty injury directly after waking up. Don’t get me wrong, I am able to see blood. But larger injuries are something different. So, in order to peel my thoughts off some gruesome imaginary pictures, I hobble over to the open door.

“Good morning you train wreck.”

I enter a little rustic kitchen with nothing more but a stove, some cabinets and a small round table. Kaua is sitting on an old wooden chair with a ceramic mug in his hand. My nose picks up the heavy smell of coffee, similar to the one my dad drinks after work.  
“Morning.” I grumble and stroke away a rogue strand of hair which is hanging right in front of my eyes. As I do so I notice the woman sitting next to Kaua laugh, or rather trying her best not to do so.

“Not a morning person, I see.”  
I haven’t seen her face before but I recognize her by her voice. It’s the woman Kaua brought me to yesterday. Dark hair, ebony skin, amber eyes. Undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.  
“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a truck.”

“I guess that’s as close as it gets, yes.”

I wish I could remember her name to thank her as she offers me to sit on the empty chair next to her but I can’t remember her name. Everything that happened last night is covered in fog, almost like a blackout. The last thing I can remember is that thing wrapping its tongue around my leg and the burning pain coming from it. I let my body sink down onto the chair, saying nothing as the woman places a cup in front of me and fills it with a clear liquid.  
“Drink. We got most of it out but this will help cleaning your body.”  
I stare down at the cup and snatch a quick glance at Kaua who is focused on his own cup.

“How is your leg?”

“Good, I guess. It still hurts but I can walk.” I answer before tasting whatever is in the cup she gave me. It tastes absolutely disgusting so it must be some kind of herbal tea.

“What about a headache?”

I slowly shake my head. I mean, there is a quiet hum in the back of my head but that’s probably because it’s not used to so much sleep. And because I didn’t drink anything during the last, maybe, 20 hours.

“That’s good.”  
I do my best to empty my cup without showing my disgust too much, fearing it could offend her. It’s hard but drinking the rest in one go does the trick.  
“What’s the last thing you remember?”  
As I look up I register her eyes staring right at me, almost glowing with the sunlight shining directly into them. I don’t know what to make of her stare but for now I will mark it as curiosity.  
“I don’t remember much.” I start, glancing over to Kaua who is scratching my cat’s head. I didn’t even notice her entering the room. What a traitor. “The last thing I remember clearly is that thing catching up to me.”  
My eyes trail down to my patched up leg. All of this feels more like a nightmare than reality. And yet here I am, sitting at a table with a stranger, staring at the bandages which are hiding the injury.  
“As I thought.”  
A little confused by her remark I stare back at her but it doesn’t seem like I’m getting an answer to what she meant with that any time soon. Instead she stands up and gestures over to the room in which I apparently slept.

“Would you mind letting me have a look at it?”

The woman doesn’t wait until I give her an answer and walks through the door. All that’s left for me is to follow her, limping back to the sofa.  
“Oh, you probably don’t remember.” She begins as she grabs a stool and brings it over, sitting down in front of me. “My name is Asha. I’m an old friend of that grumpy ancient man.”  
“I’m 68, for god’s sake!”  
Asha chuckles and gives me a wink. Their dynamic reminds me of my friendship with Ellen which immediately brings a smile to my face. Seeing that Asha’s eyes light up, just like a child that has been told they’re going to Disneyland.

“Would you look at that, the boy is able to smile. Maybe you do have the potential to become someone great. Not like a certain someone.”  
“I heard that!”  
Kaua’s growl reaches us from the other room but it’s nowhere near dangerous, just really really annoyed.

“Now, let’s have a look at your leg.”  
Taking a deep breath in I lean back as Asha carefully lifts my leg into her lap and starts to unwrap it. It’s a bit swollen but besides that there’s nothing that would give away my first meeting with what I could only describe as a demon. Only when the last layer of the bandage starts to come off do I realize the extent of my encounter. She hasn’t even revealed the wound itself but coming from the centre I see dark purple veins spread across my leg. The further down we get the more disgusting it looks. Bit by bit she reveals dark read streaks and burn marks of where that thing wrapped its tongue around my leg. It really looks like it started to dissolve from whatever that thing drooled on it. Before it gets too much for my stomach I turn my head away, staring over at the window. I don’t think I need to see more than that.

“Good news is we stopped whatever was eating at your leg from spreading. The mixture I applied to the wound is currently dissolving it so we don’t have to worry about amputating your leg.”

I shoot her a panicked look but she laughs it off and shakes her head.

“Just a little joke. Kaua brought you in just in time.”

I still don’t think that this is funny in any way but I don’t say anything, raising a brow at her instead. As a response she winks at me again with a cocky grin.

“Anyway, it looks like it will heal up just fine. Though you shouldn’t move around that much for a couple of days.”

“Wait, what?”

I shake my head and hold my hands up in a time out pose.

“What do you mean by a couple days?”  
I don’t have that time. If these things are already starting to go after me I don’t want to know in what kind of danger Erika and the rest of the ghosts could be. There’s no way I could take a few days off, they need my help now.

Realizing I’m not taking her warning seriously enough Asha’s carefree attitude vanishes. Her eyes go cold and nebulous, looking directly into mine.

“Listen here boy, you’re lucky to be alive. If it wasn’t for Kaua and me you would’ve either been devoured by that demon or killed by the corruption. Be thankful.”

I swallow hard. Shit, that’s not what I meant.

“I’m sorry, I’m nothing near ungrateful. But I can’t just vanish. There are people who will be looking for me and even more who need my help.”

Now thinking about it I have no idea where my phone is. I don’t feel it in the pockets of my pants and it’s not laying anywhere. Looks like I’ve lost it somewhere between getting chased down the streets and being carried away by Kaua.

To my relief the woman’s facial expression softens again.

She grabs a little wooden bowl that is standing on a small desk next to the sofa and applies its green mushy content to my wound. Strangely enough I don’t feel a thing.

“Don’t worry, Kaua already said he’ll take you in. But you need to rest your leg. If you overdo it it could start spreading again.”

“After what happened I guess I’m not safe at home, am I.”

Her eyes are filled with compassion and a hint of sorrow as she shakes her head. Why do I feel like this is not the first time she had to care for someone like me?

“Will my father be safe?”

“I can’t say for sure.” Asha mumbles as she puts away the bowl and wraps a fresh set of bandages around my leg. “But from what Kaua told me it seemed to be after you. I don’t think he’s in danger.”

I lower my head, looking down at my hands. What the fuck is happening? I don’t understand it. Why am I suddenly being attacked by demons and shadows? Did all of this start because I said yes? What if I would’ve said no, would I be at home now? Still laying in my bed, unharmed and safe?

“Are you ready?”

I don’t notice Kaua coming into the room but he’s already standing next to me. He’s holding Rhiannon in his arm who is enjoying some good head scritches, purring loudly.

“He’s ready to go. I packed you some herbs and bandages. You need to change it daily until new tissue has developed. If something’s the matter you can always contact me.”

Kaua lays a hand on the woman’s shoulder, smiling from the depths of his heart. It’s so honest that I don’t think I’ll see anything even remotely close from him ever again.

“Thanks. I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

Asha shakes her head and stands up, taking his hand in both of hers. Rhiannon gives her a little offended noise as her scratches suddenly stop but she doesn’t mind the cat’s attitude.

“There’s no need to thank me, old friend. But you need to go.”

He nods and lets her leave through a heavy curtain at the other end of the room. I follow her with my eyes, thinking about what a strange woman she is. I wonder why she insists on us leaving. Is she hiding something? And where are we? I start to wonder if everyone involved with this supernatural stuff is keeping secrets.

“Well then, you heard the lady.”

I blink a few times to force my eyes away from the curtain and turn them to Kaua. He’s still standing next to me, holding Rhiannon in his arms. She is such a traitor.

“Let’s get going.”

I slowly put my legs down from the sofa. I am still wearing my ripped and bloodied pants, making the injury on my leg clearly visible. Guess it’s time for a new pair of pants.

Just before I push myself back onto my feet I see a red ball fall to the ground and toddle over to me. With a purr Rhiannon head-butts my right leg and licks it. It’s strange seeing her do that. This gesture is something she rarely shows and only if she is in the mood. The last time she showed me that much amount of love was when I came back from my summer vacation in Italy.

I lean down to scratch her head before I carefully push myself up from the armrest of the old sofa, meeting Kaua’s glance as soon as I’m standing.

“Don’t overdo it.”

“I’m just sitting myself up, don’t worry.”  
  
Reaching down to my far too unbothered cat I pull her up against my chest just before Kaua wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. Startled I stare up to him and instinctively try to wiggle myself out but before I can do so everything around me starts to shift. I feel my stomach turn and getting ready to empty out the little bit of tea I had a few minutes ago as we end up back in his library. I let Rhiannon drop down to the floor and reach for the desk, leaning over, hoping to calm it down because I don’t think Kaua would appreciate me throwing up on his floor. Again I realize that my hair has grown way too long for my comfort but, being the lazy ass I am, I guess it will grow even longer before I’m getting it cut.  
As I’ve finally pulled myself together and sit down on one of the empty chairs I notice that he has already made himself comfortable in an armchair.  
  
“How did you manage to hold that thing off for so long?”  
  
Still a little dizzy I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to think.  
  
“What do you mean? I ran, obviously.”  
  
“No human can run away from a creature like this. I’m not sure what it was but it was ancient. And powerful. You must have damaged it in some way.”  
  
He nearly speaks about it like it isn’t a living being. I guess for him they aren’t. Personally, I don’t know where to put them. All I know is that they apparently want to eat me.  
  
“Maybe I threw it off with the light.”  
  
Concentrating on my memories of yesterday I remember this bright light engulfing me, driving that thing off like a wall of fire. I’m still not sure how I managed to do it or if it even was me conjuring it but that’s the only thing coming to mind.  
  
“The light?”  
  
Kaua probably doesn’t notice it but he leans in closer to me, eyes fixed at my intertwined fingers.  
  
“It got the me and Rhiannon cornered in the living room. I closed my eyes, thinking of how you chased away the shadows back at R.I. and before I realized what’s happening there was that light around me. That’s the reason we got out of the house in the first place.”  
  
He stares at me for a few seconds. It looks like he wants to say something but instead he stands up and puts the chair away.  
  
“I’ll need to do some research. In the meantime I recommend doing what Asha told you and rest.”  
  
It’s really astonishing how fast these people are able to forget that I am not part of this world. I can’t just disappear as I see fit. I may be of age but there are still people out there who’d start to worry and search for me. I never leave without telling someone, at least not for longer than a day. And I don’t want my father to grow into a panic.

“I’d love to but first I need to contact my father.”  
  
I hear a groan coming from the old man who’s already heading for the door, turning his head to glare at me.  
  
“Is this really necessary?”  
  
“Yes it is. Unless you want the police to be searching for me because I’m reported missing.”  
  
He groans again in defeat and drags himself back over to me, handing me a piece of paper and a pen. A little confused I pull my eyebrows together and look from the supplies to him.  
  
“Write something down and I will drop it off at your house.”  
  
I facepalm myself mentally, reminding me that this man probably has nothing to do with modern technology. He’s doing his best, at least that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of.  
  
“Can’t you just, port us over to my flat? Like you did earlier?”  
  
I know I could ask him about whatever that was but I’m almost 100% sure I will not get a satisfying answer. So I decided to just take it as it is and not ask any questions.

“That’s not how it works.”

I sigh quietly and place the piece of paper on the desk, ready to write down a shot message for my father but to my surprise Kaua starts to talk again.  
  
“I am using portal sigils to travel from place to place. They act like a gateway and are connected to each other, meaning I can only travel between them.”  
  
As he explains he points down at the floor where I see a few black lines looking out from beneath an old carpet. Kaua’s pulls it aside, revealing a huge sigil burned into the wooden floor. I stand up and hobble around it to get a better look. It’s a slender rhombus with a circle on its tip. From there a straight line is drawn down and out of the shape, crossing five horizontal lines varying in sizes from longest to shortest until it meets another circle.  
  
“Wow.”  
  
I don’t know what else to say. Its shape draws me in like nothing has before. Standing at it’s base it does look like a gateway, something that’s able to pull you into another realm. How I wish I could do something like that too.  
  
“So all I can do for you now is delivering this letter.”  
  
I look up to him and then back to the desk. I hate to admit it but he’s right. This would be no problem with my phone but, it being lost, the only way to get a message out is with this piece of paper.  
  
  
  
_“Hey dad,_

_Don’t worry about this letter, I lost my phone but didn’t want to leave without a word.  
I’m staying with Ellen for a while, helping her with another gig for the band._

_Love you,_

_Dewain”_

Quickly scribbling down these few lines I fold the piece of paper in the middle and hand it over to Kaua, giving him my address before he shows me an empty room which I can stay in and leaves.  
It’s not big, smaller than my room at home, with just a bed, a cupboard and a little desk next to a window. I can see the backyard from it and the rooftops of the houses behind it. It must be pretty early in the morning because, even though the sky is clouded, the sun hasn’t risen completely yet. It surprises me since it felt like I slept for at least twenty hours. This also means nobody has noticed me being god knows where. Good, one thing less to worry about.  
  
  
  
~  
  
  


“Oh, there you are.”  
  
I look up from the massive book laying in front of me as I hear the familiar voice. Kaua is still standing in the door frame, watching me with curiosity as I panic and slam the book shut.  
I admit, I went through his library without knowing if I’m allowed to but I couldn’t help it. He was gone for several hours and it’s not easy for a millennial to pass time without a phone.  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it.”  
  
His face is cold as usual but I notice a warm undertone in his voice as he comes over and flips the book over to see its cover.  
  
“Mythical creatures, huh?”  
  
A little flustered I move my chair to the side.

“These things are far more disturbing than pop culture makes you believe.”  
  
Honestly, there are things in this book I don’t even want to recall. At least not unless I want to sleep again tonight.  
  
“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’ll come across any of them soon.” Kaua chuckles in his deep voice as he puts the book in a free spot of his shelves. “There are other things to worry about for now.”  
  
“The shadows.”

Everything around us is quiet. There are no cars driving past, no people talking outside. His whole house is dead silent. The only thing I can hear is the wind outside and leafs brushing against one of the windows in the hallway.

“Exactly.”

I look up to him again, watching the man reach for a chair to sit down on. Now joining me at the table he grabs something to write and starts drawing lines and shapes on a piece of paper. There’s already something written on its back but I can’t make out what. After a few seconds of watching him I realize that whatever he’s drawing forms into a map. A map of the town.  
  
“This is the R.I.” he begins, pointing at a square with something that looks like a lightning bolt over it. “And this is your house.” The tip of the pen wanders over the map, straight to the other end to a group of squares and roads. “There’s a lot of space between the two places and yet this thing managed to get there. This means whatever they are they are getting stronger and cockier.”  
  
“What are we going to do about it?”  
  
My question sparks something inside of him, drawing out what looks like a horrifyingly dark grin. I assume he doesn’t mean to look that maniacally and rip my eyes off his face and back down at the map.  
  
“We sniff them out and destroy whatever it is that is bringing them into our world.”  
My eyes shift back to his face, checking if the coast is clear. His grin is gone, luckily, but the energy he is giving off is still sending shivers down my spine.

“This will be great practice for you.”  
  
“Wait a minute, practice?”  
  
Totally thrown off guard I turn towards him, my right elbow resting on the desk.

“Yes, practice.”  
  
He smiles at me, so cold that I start to think it was a bad idea to have ever come here. But there’s no way out of it now.

Without a word Kaua stands up, going through his chaos of books and papers, tucking some of them under his right arm. Running from bookshelf to bookshelf he takes out at least a dozen off books. He lets them fall down in front of me, right on top of the newly drawn map, and slaps the top one on its back.

“Now, this is a portion of what I have about your people. Abilities, heritage, families, etcetera.” He begins, opening the book he just pat just to throw it onto a pile not far away from him. “But we’re not going to care about all of this. You’re an individual and we will drag out your talents with our own hands.”  
  
My eyes still locked on the book he just threw away I now understand why his house looks the way it does. Poor things.

“I don’t care about what is written inside those books because no book in this world can tell your story.”

Still talking Kaua takes one of the books from beneath his feet and lays it on my legs. It’s blank, the cover empty.

“Yours hasn’t been written yet. It’s full of empty pages and potential.”  
  
I take a quick glance from the book up to him. His tone of voice is just as serious as he seems to be about this. I am still not too sure what to think but I don’t think there’s another way. It’s only been a day but in these few hours my life took a turn into a direction I can’t change anymore. At least not alone.  
  
“We will start with strengthening your spiritual properties.”  
  
He helps me on my feet and turns towards the door, waving me over as he realizes I’m not following. I do my best to wobble down the hallway and up the stairs that are hidden behind the stairs from the ground-floor. I struggle with the stairs but, to my surprise, Kaua helps me up. Maybe he does so because he doesn’t want to waste time but, nevertheless, I appreciate the help.  
Everything looks smaller up here, possibly because we are right beneath the roof. There is nothing up here besides a narrow hallway with a window at each end of it and a door right in front of us. Kaua walks over to the door and opens it, a heavy smell coming out of the dimly lit room behind it. It’s not bad, in fact it is quite relaxing. I guess Rhiannon thinks so too since she startles the shit out of me as she suddenly comes running up the stairs and into the room.  
  
“Your cat seems to be sensitive to magic too.”  
  
I furrow my brows as he steps into the room, ignoring me as I keep staring at him from inside the hallway.  
  
“Damned traitor.”  
  
Doing my best to keep myself up I follow him inside, supporting me on the wall as far as I can. Seemingly quickly enough before the door behind me suddenly slams shut. I wince back, turning around and nearly tripping over my own feet as the banging noise reaches my ears.  
  
“Come, sit.”  
  
For some reason I don’t want to turn around. All of a sudden I have a really bad feeling inside my guts, the same I had when I was down in the tunnels with Erika and faced the thing inside my house. It’s making me nervous. I try to find Rhiannon since she’s with us inside the room to see if she feels it too. But the giant red fur ball is calmly sitting next to the desk, staring into something glowing before them. That’s strange, why isn’t she reacting? He just told me that she is sensitive to this stuff too so why isn’t she alarmed? Am I imagining things again?

“Don’t worry, I just want to show you something.”  
  
A firm hand suddenly grabs my shoulder and pushes me over to the middle of the room. I get sit down on one of many pillows that are placed in a circle around a little clothed table. On it are various items. Cards, a dagger, some branches, herbs and an earthenware dish filled with sand. Kaua sits back down, Rhiannon next to him still staring into the flames of the candles.  
  
“What was that about magic?” I start instead waiting for him, watching as he lights some incense on a piece of coal in the sand.  
  
Instead of answering me the old man holds his hand out into the billowing smoke of the incense. The moment he touches it, it begins to morph and bend around his hand. Not like it would with any other normal human being, instead it behaves strangely, dancing and staying around his hand instead of fleeing further.  
  
“What your generation pictures as magic is real. But it’s nothing mythical. It’s the simple ability to bend energy to your will. No matter what form.”  
  
I look back to the dancing smoke in his hand. He waves it around a bit, the smoke following the movement of his hand.

“Magic is so much more than what you read in novels and see in movies.”  
  
He takes his hand down, letting the smoke drift upwards towards the roof. I keep watching it for a little bit until I notice him putting the candles aside.  
  
“The moment you open your eyes you will notice that it is all around us. It is everywhere, in the air, in the water, in the ground, in the animals, even in every single one of us. Every human has the potential to work with it but only a few ever fully realize it. In people like us the concentration is higher. We are already born with our eyes open. All we need to do is learn how to use that ability.”  
He gestures me to reach out my hand, giving me a few seconds of mistrust before I finally reach it across the table. Kaua takes it in his and turns it around to look at my palm.  
  
“This is peculiar.” He mumbles, tracing the lines in my hand. “For your age your hands look extremely old.”  
  
“Uh, thanks?”  
  
I don’t know if I should take this as a compliment or not. But it definitely doesn’t sound like one. Kaua doesn’t mind my comment though. Instead he keeps staring at it as if he didn’t hear it, tracing the lines with the tip of his finger.  
  
“Normally you can trace back a person’s life by analysing these lines. They work like the age rings of a tree. They can tell you their age, their hardships, their good times, their traits. But yours..” He stops and looks up to me. “...Yours don’t stop. There are so many of them I can barely make out a pattern. Usually they get more the older a person gets but you have lines on places I have never seen before. Your life and wisdom line don’t touch, in fact there is another one splitting up from the wisdom line. The fate line is completely separated and your life line doesn’t seem to end.” He turns and bends my hand, looking completely lost, as if he is trying to find a location on a map without street names.  
  
“All of your lines have little ones branching off in every directions, even breaking through them, cutting them in half, completely misplaced.”  
He lets go of my hand and looks at me, wearing a completely lost expression on his face.

“Your soul has to be extremely old.”  
  
For a moment there is silence. I stare at Kaua, more than confused because I didn’t understand a word, syncing my breath with the movement of the candles. I bet he expected me to nod and say something but frankly, I have no idea what he wants from me.

“I know this is all new to you. It is just the same for me. I've never taught a Seer, I guess you can imagine that.”

Kaua lets go of my hand in the same moment Rhiannon jogs around the table so she could play with the flames. Something I am definitely worried about but as long as she’s not left unsupervised it should be fine.

“You stepped into a world full of mysteries and hidden knowledge. You will understand in time but until then I ask of you to be patient.”

I sigh and lean my head onto my hand. Patient my ass. As if he needed to tell me that.

“Got it.”

Kaua hums happily, leaning forward on the table.

“And I’d advise you to stay away from anyone who is important to you.”

It’s just advice, no rule, and yet I feel my heart ache. There aren’t many people I care about but the ones I do cherish are more important to me than my life. I really don’t want to give them up. But before I can tell him that Kaua notices the look in my eyes and speaks before I can do.

“You already experienced what can happen. I know it is hard but do you really want your family and friends to be around the next time such a creature attacks you?”

I bite down on my lip. He is right. I know he is. But it hurts nonetheless.  
  
“I’ll do my best but I can’t promise anything.”

Not fully satisfied with my answer Kaua sighs and rubs his right temple. He pictured all of this a little different, I guess.  
  
“Well, it’s your choice. Now, let’s get back to your training.”  
  
The old man reaches for something under the desk, putting it directly in the middle of it. It’s a bowl of water, simple and clean. I raise a brow at him.  
  
“Give me your hand.”  
  
Still a bit reluctant I, again, reach my hand out to him. He places it directly on top of the bowl and lets it hover there.  
  
“Now, I want you to concentrate on your body. Take a deep breath. Feel your lungs fill and your chest rising. Concentrate on your feet, your legs. The floor you feel beneath them, the weight of your body. Focus on your hands, the air you feel around them. Guide your inner eye through your body.”  
  
Eyes closed I follow him as close as I can. It reminds me of a guided meditation I tried once as my nightmares got so bad that I couldn’t sleep anymore. It took a few tries but once I got it down I was able to relax my mind and get some well needed sleep.

“Feel your limbs get loose as your body relaxes. Lose all the tension that is gripping onto it. Visualize it flowing out of your body like a dark stream, concentrating in your belly and then flowing out of your feet into the ground. Now concentrate on the air around you. Feel the energy, visualize it like sparkling dust, gathering above your head. Feel it flow through you, filling the void that has been left by the dark stream. Let it fill and strengthen you.”

He stops for a moment for me to adjust as it takes me some time to follow his instructions. There’s a strange tingling sensation on my scalp that spreads through my whole body. It almost feels like an itch which gives me a hard time not to break my concentration and give in to it.  
  
“Good. Now concentrate that energy. Visualize it flowing to your hand, gathering in your palm. Concentrate, yes, just like that.”  
  
Before I know it my hand starts to feel unusually warm, as if I was holding it over a heated hotplate. It’s a nice feeling but it’s fleeting, being washed away as I suddenly feel something cold and touch my skin. First it is only a drop, then a whole splash. I open my eyes in shock as I hear Rhiannon scream and run off, staring at my completely wet hand. I trace the drops down to the now empty bowl. The rest of the water is spread across the table. I look up to Kaua who is keeping his eyes on the bowl and my dripping hand.  
  
“Incredible.”

Confused I take my hand back and look at it. There’s nothing unusual to be seen. No glowing, no weird magical sign, nothing. It’s just wet. For a solid two minutes neither of us says a word until a tiny pair of fluffy ears peaks out from beneath the desk, followed by a set of eyes. After checking her surroundings Rhiannon carefully sneaks out and takes a look at the desk, sniffing it with curiosity.

Without another word Kaua stands up. He walks around the small room with the low ceiling which descends towards the back of the room, past colourful veils and tapestry.

“Wait, where are you going?.” I start as he makes his way to the end of the room where some other tools and books lay on a small chest. “What does this mean?”

As he found what he was looking for the old man comes back and sits down across the table. Going through some pages of a book, not looking up, he finally starts to answer some of my thoughts.

“Honestly, I can’t tell you that. Like I already told you, I never worked with an untrained Seer before. I can only refer to my experiences. And I would say you have a lot of stored energy in you.”  
  
I groan and finally dry my hand on my ruined pants.  
  
“And that’s why these things are out to eat me?”  
  
“My best guess is that you being in the Veil triggered something. Maybe they took notice of you then.”

He closes the book filled with weird signs and characters, turning his attention back to me.

“Which, now having a hunch of what you are capable of, wouldn’t be too far off.”

Now that he mentions it, it could be possible.

“What can you tell me about the Veil?”

He smirks a little, shaking his head.

“I could tell you many stories. The question is which one will answer your question.”

I sigh. He was right when he told me that this world will take some time to get used to. I guess I have to change my way of asking my questions.

“Let me rephrase it then. What did you experience?”

“Good, you are starting to understand.” For a second there I think I see something in his eyes that resembles pride but it is gone as quickly as it appeared. “It is a rather peculiar dimension. It resembles ours but is something completely different. Real and fake, steady and changing.”

He reaches over to the incense that is still going up from the incense, filling the room with a strange sensation of something otherworldly.

“It is like smoke. You can’t predict which shapes and paths it will take. But once it meets something out of its reality...” he holds his fingers over the smoke, letting it dance between them. “...it gets disturbed. Like waves disrupting a surface. It changes and warps. This happens when a large amount of energy is being focused and released. As example, when a ghost speaks. To do so it gathers enough energy to disrupt the surface of its dimension. These waves which get created from this energy is what we can hear and feel.”

“So...” I start, piecing all the parts together in my head. “...that means, when you interact with something in the Veil, let’s say a cup standing on a desk, you create waves of energy that get transferred across the dimension?”

“Exactly.”

I don’t bother looking at Kaua’s reaction, or analysing his tone of voice, because now everything starts to make sense.

“That’s why the two freaked when I opened the window.”

Kaua furrows his brows and turns his head sideways, looking straight at me.

“What do you mean, you opened a window?”

I lay both of my hands on the desk next to each other, palms facing, as I start to explain.

“As I got stuck Erika and Alfred, the two ghosts I was with, tried to help me by finding another ghost. I noticed music coming from outside and thought by opening the window I would be able to hear it more clearly. But as I did so the two of them got into a panic. Shortly after shadows started to attack us.”

Kaua stares at me for a while before he shakes his head.

“So, you are telling you not only were able to hear something outside this dimension but also were able to interact with it? Not even mentioning the fact that you were able to physically touch the ghosts?”

I don’t say a thing while I watch him lay his hands over his face, mumbling something about gods helping him.

“Dewain, that’s something even I need a lot of energy for.”

Now I am the one to push the brows together, staring into nothingness.

As I continue to stare at him dumbfoundedly Kaua continues, asking another question to piece together that puzzle in front of us.

“What happened directly afterwards?”

“Screams echoed through the halls and before we noticed it we were surrounded by these things. I’ve seen them before but never in such numbers.”

“You noticed them before?”

I look down to Rhiannon who decided to lay down next to me for a little nap.

“Yes but that’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

I take a glance over to him. He’s just sitting there, fingers intertwined on the desk. Like that he almost looks like my therapist. But here, looking into his face, it feels different. I had a hard time opening up to him. But that blockade inside of my mind isn’t present. Kaua’s not looking at me with amusement. He’s looking me into the eyes, dead serious. He believes me. The first person to actually do so.

“Okay.” I start, softly scratching Rhiannon’s head. “Actually, I started seeing them when I was a kid. I kept telling my dad about shadow people on the streets and in our kitchen but he just thought it was my childish imagination. So I started to try to ignore them. But they never left. It felt like they followed me everywhere but soon enough I started to realize that’s not the case. They’re omnipresent. No matter where I went they were there too. Some noticed me, some didn’t. But they never attacked me. Until one day when one entered my room. Rhiannon was there too and fended it off. After that they began to stalk me. I haven’t had a good sleep for years now thanks to them. They watch me. Sometimes they even try to reach out to me. But most of the time they give me horrible nightmares.”

“I don’t think I have to tell you that this is anything but good.”

I sigh and nod. I never really thought about what their presence could mean them and, for most of my life, I believed my father and therapists. Or rather tried to. I told myself that they’re just a figment of my imagination. But, obviously, that’s farer from the truth than I’d like.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to rid you of them.”

I look up to him, not broken but defeated. His expression is the polar opposite of mine. Dedicated and high spirited. It reminds me of the grin that slipped out as he was drawing the map, dangerous and unnerving. And yet it shows me that, with him at my side, I have nothing to fear. This man knows how to deal with the unknown and I bet he is even more powerful than he lets others believe.  
  
“I will give you the basics of self-protection and, as soon as you’re ready.”  
  
Flicking his fingers over the candles he steals the flames off the wick and let’s them flicker on his fingertips. I stare back and forth between them and his dark brown eyes, their reflections dancing inside of them like stars in the night sky.  
  
“And we’re going to burn out that hornet’s nest.”


	6. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With voices pulling him into different directions Dewain joins Kaua into finally declaring war on whatever his hiding beneath the R.I. .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little late to the party but, well, guess you all know the feeling of working through a writer's block :)
> 
> On another note I started working on a movie project as screenwriter with a friend of mine. Because of that I will have to split my writing time up for both projects which may or may not will result in a change of schedule. 
> 
> Enough chatter for now, have fun with the new chapter!

It’s still dark as I wake up in the little room, dim moonlight shining through the window next to me. It’s not enough to make out anything specific but from what I can see I am alone. I guess everything else would be weird. Still, for some reason I hoped Kaua would be around when I wake up. Especially because I don’t trust myself walking around his house without him. I did get kind of comfortable during the day as we did some more exercises to test out my limits and knowledge but it’s something completely different at night. Ah well, I guess it can’t be helped. Even though I should be tired as hell I am wide awake, staring out the window until following the clouds across the sky bores me. Without my phone I realize how much I actually depend on it. Normally I would check facebook and instagram or watch a video on youtube. Can’t do that without one. I sigh and slowly sit myself up. My leg hurts, a little more than it did before, probably because it’s starting to heal and fight whatever that creature drooled into my system. I hiss in pain as I reach down to take a look at it but I can’t get myself to pull up the bandages. Plus I really don’t want to make it worse. So, enduring the pain, I swing my legs down the side of the bed and carefully push myself up, using the bed stand as support. I’m wobbly at first but after blinking away the stars in front of my eyes I begin to regain my stand. Now being fully awake I scan the room. Like I already noticed it is mostly empty and undecorated. Only a little plant next to the cupboard graces this room with its presence. Everything looks rather old and rustic, like generations of families have already used them. It’s no surprise, considering how the rest of the house looks. At least the parts I have already seen. There are still doors I don’t know what lays behind them. Guess I don’t have anything else to do anyways.  
The hallway is even darker than my room. The only light source is the light coming through the window in the library, shining through the doorframe into the darkness. The house seems to be empty. No noises, no lights. Kaua did mention he would be gone but still, being alone in this strange building creeps me out. Usually I am not scared that easily. I mean, I headed straight forward into the tunnels beneath the R.I. . But here, I don’ know how to describe it. The atmosphere is strange. It makes me nervous, so much in fact that I start to shiver. The air around me is cold and it’s even colder further down the hallway after I tried to open the doors on the opposite side of my room. No luck, both of them are locked. A thing I am sort of happy about, especially because of the door at the far end of the hallway. I don’t know if it’s what I think is a sigil, an upside down V with five half circles around it, burned into its wood or the writing on its doorframe but something tells me I am not supposed to open it. I tried anyway, don’t ask me way.  
The only other room next to the library on this floor is the bathroom. It’s small and rustic but looks in better condition than the rest of the house. Except for the laundry laying on the floor.  
It takes me quite some time to get down the stairs safely. Normally I would say that I like circular stairs. But with an injured leg they are nothing but a way to induce panic. A panic I really can’t use as this floor is so dark that I can’t see my hand in front of my eyes. The only thing visible is the little bit of light beneath two doors. One is leading outside into his garden. I open the other one, right next to the stairs, and enter a kitchen. The counters look used, scratches and colourless spots on the wood show me that they are just as old as everything else in this house. The desk and chairs don’t look better. The fridge is mostly empty, only some vegetables, bread and juice. No coffee machine or microwave. Instead I find an old teapot sitting on one of the counters. Its dark coat is crested on golden ornaments, gleaming in the silver light of the moon.  
“Dewain.”  
I turn around, staring outside into the hallway. Nothing. It’s empty. No glowing eyes, no shadows moving in the darkness. Did I imagine it? No, I’m pretty sure I just heard a voice. And for the first time in my life I am actually able to say that for sure, without second guessing my mental health. I set the teapot down back on its spot and leave the room. Everything is as quiet as before, except for the wind outside playing with the leafs of the trees. I walk over to the garden door and open it, cold air hitting me like a wave. Suddenly I am wide awake, taking in every last bit of fresh oxygen. The sky is clear and the moon is full, shining down on me. It’s bright enough to produce a shadow behind me on the unmown grass. Looking around the whole garden looks more like wildlife. Nothing is trimmed or even remotely tamed, growing where and how it wants. All kinds of trees and bushes, flowers and grasses entangled into each other. Ivy is climbing up the sides of the house together with some roses. I guess Kaua is not that deep into gardening. But what would you expect from someone like him? He seems to be more of a free spirit and, judging from his library, rather unorganized. But what do they always say? Only a genius can manage the chaos.  
“Dewain.”  
This time it’s louder. Not spoken, still a whisper. Soft and tiny, weak. Not like the voice of the shadow. It’s got a strange melody to it, like the wind brought down a song with it from a land far away. I walk towards a sweet chestnut that is standing at the end of the garden whose fruits look about ready to be picked. Thinking about that sweet taste, I am hungry as hell. My stomach feels like it’s being consumed by a black hole and that’s the worst thing I can imagine now. Not being chased by an ugly creature, no. Being hungry.  
“Come.”  
The voices are leading me deeper down into the garden. Back at the door I would have never imagined that this backyard is big enough to get lost inside it. But I managed it anyways. Turning around I don’t see the house anymore. I am surrounded by branches and leafs, not even the moonlight can reach me. I push away a few branches, slowly trying to take the way back I came. But to be honest I don’t even know from where I came anymore. No matter how far I walk, all I see are trees. I stop and try to focus. I can’t be lost, that’s not possible. There was no forest behind his house, was there? I mean, the district is kind of far away from the centre of the town but not that far. And I did see houses behind his backyard the first time I looked out of the window.  
I take another look around me. Darkness and plants. Nothing to regain my orientation, nothing that looks similar. Nothing unusual. Except for something flickering in the distance.  
“Wait, is that a light?”  
It’s so far away that I nearly missed it. But between the thick bushes and grasses I see a little dancing blue light. I try my best to get through the wildlife but as I arrive it’s gone. I turn around, scanning my surroundings until I notice another one, further from where I am now. They are leading me somewhere. I don’t know why but I feel it. I think they want me to follow and since they are the only one around I won’t turn them down, even if they are only some kind of strange lights.  
I follow them deeper into the woods, no clear path in sight. No life, no sounds. Only the flickering lights, scattered through the trees. I don’t know where I am going and slowly I start to think this is going nowhere but I, again, am proven wrong. But a moment later I step back into the light of the moon, arriving on a sudden treeless spot. This forest glade is the biggest one I have seen in my entire life. And it’s not empty. Something’s moving in the centre of it. From afar it looks like fog but I don’t think it is. At least, if it was it can’t be regular fog. No fog just starts circling without a gust of wind in the air. I slowly walk closer, seeing clearer with every step, realizing I was right to think so. It’s a group of people, dressed in wide white silk clothing, swaying with their movements as they dance together in a circle. My eyes follow their dance, silver locks and pigtails flying through the air, barely being contrasting to their garments. Sometimes it looks like their feet are touching the ground, the next they are not. But I see them. I hear them sing. And they are not see-through like a ghost.  
“Join us.”  
I can’t pull my eyes away from them. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think I am breathing anymore. I want to get closer but something keeps me in place. Every step forward brings me further back. The closer I am trying to get the less I can see them. Something’s pulling me back. Something doesn’t want me to join them.  
“Dewain.”  
It’s demanding, harsh. By now I am already back in the forest, turning around to get one last glance at them but they are gone as I look back to the glade. Even the moon starts to hide behind a cloud, darkening the world around me. The voice that is calling to me now is different from before. It’s at least three octaves deeper, almost vibrating as it orders me to turn around, pulling me away from the glade. But I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave. I shake and turn back around but instead of trees and bushes I stand in front of a door. I am back in the hallway on the first floor, right in front of the door with the sigil.  
“Open it.”  
My whole body is shivering. A drop of sweat runs down my temple. My eyes fixate on the doorknob.  
“Open it.”  
It’s drawing me in, my hand moving on its own until it closes around it.  
“Open it!”  
The voice is getting harsher every time. I swallow, shivering like a new-born deer. I don’t know why I am so nervous. Hearing voices isn’t something unusual for me. But this time I can’t block it out. It’s digging itself into my brain. And my body is following.  
“What are you doing?”  
I jerk back, nearly dying from a heart attack. A firm hand pulls me back from the door and my mind free. I shake my head and rub my forehead with my right hand.  
“Why are you awake this early in the morning? You should be asleep.”  
I look up to Kaua who finally lets go of my shoulder and gives me some space. He looks angry.  
I open my mouth to speak but decide to stop and think first. I don’t know if I should tell him. I know that he’s my only link to solving whatever is going on but still, whenever I told someone what I saw or heard things got out of hand.  
“You know I won’t judge.”  
As if he’d be reading my mind Kaua answers my thoughts. The wave of anger that had his face in its grip is gone by the time I look at him again, exchanged by his cold stare.  
“I’m not quite sure. I followed some lights to a glade on which a group of white robed people were dancing. They were calling to me but before I could reach them something else pulled me out and ordered me to open this door.”  
Both of us look back at the door in front of us. It still looks like before, nothing has changed. And the voice is gone.  
“Go back to bed. If you want to heal quickly you need to rest a lot. And make sure to drink.”  
After handing me a bottle of water Kaua carefully guides me back into my room and closes the door. I hear him cursing something outside of my room but I don’t understand what he’s saying, it almost sounds like a different language. I’m not sure what’s going on and I don’t know him well enough to judge his expression but he looked concerned. Whatever’s hidden and locked behind this door seems to have a pull on me and Kaua doesn’t like that. 

I tried to sleep a little more but every time I closed my eyes my mind got dragged back to whatever kind of experience I just had. So the sun rises above the horizon without me closing my eyes for even another few minutes, leaving me with dark circles and irritated eyes. I glance down my leg. The bandages are in dire need of replacement which shocks me, knowing that they’ve been changed just yesterday. I’m not sure what it is that’s been soaked up by them but it’s definitely something nasty. Guess I’ll have to ask Kaua to change them for me later. I could change them myself but as I already said, I’d probably either faint or puke the moment I see the injury.  
Pushing myself up on the bed I notice a little cloth bag standing right next to the door. Was it standing there before? I doubt it. But then how did it get there? Maybe Kaua put the bag there as he closed the door.  
I wobble over and take a look inside. It’s clothes, apparently freshly bought. A plain black shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, a blue camouflage hoodie and some sneakers in my size. I don’t think I want to know how Kaua knew which size to take. Nevertheless, there’s no sense in beginning to explain how appreciated this is.  
Taking off my pants is relatively easy thanks to them being halfway ripped to shreds. As I pull over the hoodie I get a glimpse of its tag. It’s written in a foreign language, probably something Asian. Nope, not asking any more questions.  
I open the door to peek outside. The hallway is empty. In fact, the whole house seems empty. Looks like Kaua isn’t here. Again. I take the steps down to the kitchen, greeting the little ball of fur laying on the seating area. She seems quite comfortable so I don’t bother her, instead reaching for one of the pre-made slices of bread served on a little wooden carving board that’s laying on the table. A cup of tea is already standing on the kitchen counter for me, berries judging from the smell. A thousand times better than whatever Asha gave me.  
I hear a door open and shut the moment I take a sip, taking in the sweet scent of the wild berries. Heavy footsteps echo through the hallway, coming closer until a familiar face steps through the kitchen door.  
“I didn’t expect you to be up so early.”  
I turn around to the old man, setting down the cup on the counter and take a bite off the cheese topped bread slice.  
“I couldn’t sleep anymore.”  
A little squeak comes from the seating area, red fur stretching and then bouncing down to the ground. Rubbing her head against Kaua’s leg Rhiannon makes her way past him and trots out of the kitchen.  
“Looks like the clothes fit. I wasn’t sure about your sizes so I just picked whatever I thought could fit.”  
I take a quick look down on myself.  
“They actually fit perfectly. But I don’t have any money on me.”  
Kaua let’s out a “tsk” and waves me off.  
“Don’t worry about that. How is your leg?”  
“Ah right, thanks for reminding me.”  
Stuffing the last bit of cheese and bread into my mouth I sit myself down on one of the kitchen chairs and pull up left leg of my pants. Just as earlier the bandages are soaked with a mixture of purple and red, mixing together into an ugly brown.  
“I think it needs to be changed. Could you do it for me?”  
As our eyes meet I know what he must be thinking. That I’m a child, too soft and squeamish. He’s not showing it but I’m sure. Nevertheless he goes to grab some new rolls of gauze bandage and the mixture Asha gave us. It still burns like hell as he unwraps my leg on his lap and even more so as he cleans it. I don’t want to bother him so I pull myself together and bite down on my lip, enduring as best as I can as he smears the substance on the injury, covers it with a compress and wraps it all up.  
“There you go, as good as new.”  
I’m surprised by how gently he handles my leg. I don’t take him for a sadist but neither do I expect such kind and reassuring words. He seems like a two-sided person or someone who suppresses his soft side. Which is nothing else than understandable, keeping in mind what kind of world he’s living in.  
“Thanks.”  
Kaua grabs the dirty bandages and throws them in a bin hidden in one of the counters, putting the plastic covers of the new ones in another next to it.  
“Are you ready to continue?”  
I nod and push myself up, carefully putting some weight on my left leg. It hurts but not enough to make me flinch. Kaua watches me for a short moment, probably to make sure that I’m alright, before he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs.  
We sit down in the library, soft rays of the winter sun illuminating the chaos of books and papers.  
“Let’s talk about what happened two nights ago.”  
Without hearing the full sentence my mind immediately goes into shock, thinking he’s asking about last night. So it takes me a good few seconds to realize and analyse what he said before I can answer.  
“You mean when that thing attacked me?”  
He nods, leaning onto the desk next to him and laying his head against his hand.  
“You said you conjured light. I want to see you do it again.”  
Quickly I shake my head, forming somewhat of an apologetic look onto my face.  
“I don’t know if it’s going to work again, I can’t clearly remember how I did it.”  
Kaua watches me for a brief moment before he sighs and his eyes begin to wander across the room.  
“There are a thousand ways to conjure magic.” He begins, his fingers idly tapping on the wooden desk. “And even more types of the latter. It’s not only black and white. It would take hours to count them all down and then I still would have missed at least a dozen. And in the end every individual develops their own personal way of practicing magic.”  
His eyes focus back on me, trailing down to my hands which I have folded in my lap.  
“This is one of the reasons why teaching magic is so difficult before knowing the nature of a student’s core.”  
I tilt my head, furrowing my brows as I try to wrap my head around whatever he is trying to tell me. Seeing my confusion Kaua raises his hand, a sign for me not to speak because he already knows he has to explain further.  
“A variety of cultures have worked with energies for centuries, one of these practices you too could have heard of is called Reiki. The core, figuratively speaking, is the centre of the energies flowing through you. It determines which type of magic comes to you naturally and thus tells me which part of the circle will be off limits to you.”  
Kaua grabs a piece of paper and turns it around to its blank side, drawing a surprisingly round circle on it with an old pen.  
“Even though there are endless ways to practice magic they are categorized into nine major types.” As he explains he marks nine points around the circle and combines them with arrows. “It’s a complicated system of kindreds and polar-opposites. Going through all of them individually would take too much time but the major nine are Spellcrafting, Transmutation, Spiritual Magic, White Magic, Blood Magic, Alechmic Magic, Elemental Magic, Necromany and Black Magic. The basic principle is that the further away a practice is from the nature of your core the harder it is for you to learn it.”  
With the tip of the pen he traces the outlines of the circle, starting at the point on the right side of the circle until he ends on the other side.  
“The practice on the opposite side of the circle is their natural opposite, meaning it’s impossible for you to learn.”  
The pen moves back to the original point and traces an arrow that points towards another.  
“The arrow going away from your type shows you which type is the hardest for you the learn, the one coming towards you is the easiest.”  
“Okay so.” I begin, eyes firmly planted on the strange ensemble of arrows. “That means before we can continue we have to find out which type I belong to. How do we do that? I don’t suppose there’s a talking hat we can put on my head to tell us.”  
Kaua sets the pen aside and leans back in his chair.  
“There are countless ways of testing it but none of those have turned out to be a hundred percent certain. The easiest way to be sure is to test out each individually but I don’t think we have the time for that.”  
A little puzzled I look up to the old man. His head is turned towards one of the windows so I follow, spotting a black bird sitting right in front of the glass. It turns around and looks at us, then tapping its beak against the glass. To me it looks like a raven but I’m no bird expert so I guess it could be a crow too. Never understood the difference.  
“A bird?” I mutter out the moment Kaua stands up and moves over to the window, opening it to let the little creature in.  
“It’s my familiar.” Letting the bird hop on his hand Kaua raises it up to his shoulder where it nestles down. “She keeps an eye out and only comes to me when she senses danger.”  
“What kind of danger?”  
Slowly growing a little unsettled I push myself up on the desk and wobble around it to get closer to Kaua.  
“I think you know.”  
The way he looks at me can only mean one thing. It’s got something to do with what’s hiding beneath the R.I. . Dammit.  
“Grab your jacket. We’re heading out.”  
“Wait, what, now?”  
Without looking at me again the old man rushes past me to the little desk in the corner, rummaging about in one of the drawers.  
“Yes, now. Either that or we leave town.”  
“Leave town?”  
I do my best to keep up with him as he leaves the room but with an injured, and still hurting, leg it’s not that easy.  
“Exactly.” Finally he stops and turns, looking me dead in the eyes. “I kept an eye on it for some time now. It’s been dormant at first but during the past weeks whatever is down there has grown stronger. Soon there will be no ghosts left to swallow and it won’t be satisfied by them either.”  
It takes me a moment to get a hold of myself, trying to grasp what he’s telling me. But the fact that he’s basically telling me that my town is going to be devoured by these creatures just won’t get into my head.  
“But we don’t even know what they are.” I begin, limping after Kaua again as he makes his way to my room.  
“But we know how to keep them at bay.”  
I catch the jacket he throws towards me, clumsily putting it on as he pushes past me.  
“You can’t be serious.” Following him downstairs I stop in the door leading to his store room where he begins to stuff a variety of objects into his bag. “What if it doesn’t work?”  
“It worked before.”  
We end up in the shop at the front of his house where Kaua goes through the drawers behind the counter, searching for something and then decants it into a jar he got out of his bag beforehand.  
“Right, what were you saying the night that thing got to me? I can’t remember much despite not understanding a word.”  
“It was an Exorcism.”  
“A what?”  
Completely baffled I stare at the old man from the other side of the counter. He turns to look at me with weariness in his cold brown eyes, then cramps the jar filled with a white substance that looks like salt into his bag.  
“You heard me.”  
“So, does that mean you’re a Christian?”  
For a moment we just stare at each other until Kaua lets out a deep sigh and lets his eyes wander across the room.  
“It’s a long story, but yes. You may not believe it but there are quite the amount of practices in the Christian faith that can be counted alongside the magical practices.”  
“So, does that mean these things are demons?”  
He shakes his head and takes a deep breath before he grabs a thick scarf from the counter and throws it around his neck.  
“Not quite but an Exorcism isn’t purely aimed at demons. It was written to dispel any kind of malevolent ghost or creature.”  
The amount of information I’m trying to stuff into my head is a little much and honestly brings up more questions than answers but, with the situation being a little pressing, I decide to defer asking them to another day.  
“And what am I supposed to do?”  
After locking the shop behind us I follow the old man down the road, barely able to keep up with him as he takes turn after turn through the neighbourhood.  
“You’re the one who’s able to interact with their realm. I will be able to distract the things but in the end it will be your job to finish them.”

“Hold on a minute, I can’t even do a card trick.” I protest as we finally stop right next to a symbol on a wall of an empty shop. It’s the same that’s branded into the floor of Kaua’s library.  
“You’ll know what to do.”  
I want to continue complaining but before I can say a word Kaua grabs my arm and places his hand on the symbol. Within a heartbeat we’re somewhere else, another alley covered in graffiti and empty beer bottles.  
I feel my stomach turn as my breakfast tries to make its way out of it but, luckily, I manage to keep it in. Kaua doesn’t seem to care because he walks out of the alley without even looking at me. So I, again, hobble as fast as I can to catch up with him. As I step on the main road I finally realize where we are. Not even ten meters down I spot the R.I. . It’s strange to be here during the day. Not a soul is standing in front of the usually crowded entrance and it’s dead silent. It also looks far more worn down in daylight compared to during the night.  
“How do we get in though?”  
Standing in front of the entrance I look up to Kaua who extends his hand and pulls down the door handle, opening the door for me.  
“Like this.”  
I stare at the door and then back at him before he makes his way through the doorframe. I try to catch his arm but he’s in before I can even take a step.  
“Wait, doesn’t that mean there are people here?”  
I do my best to follow him in as quickly as possible. The moment the door closes behind me I can hear voices coming from the hall behind the ticket booth.  
“And you’re sure you haven’t seen him since?”  
“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t even see him leave.”  
I recognize this voice.  
“Ellen?”

To Kaua’s surprise I step in front of him and walk down into the hall, turning towards the familiar bunch of fiery red hair. Hearing my voice she turns away from the bartender. Her jaw drops right before she comes storming towards me, catching me in the tightest hug I ever received.  
“Dammit Dewain, you scared the hell out of me! Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”  
Groaning in pain as my weight shifts to my injured leg I carefully push her away, clinging onto her a little to make it easier to adjust my footing.  
“I lost it somewhere, sorry.”  
She grimaces at me in disbelief and then notices me supporting myself on her, her eyes wandering down to my leg which I am resting carefully on the tip if my foot.  
“Oh god, did something happen to your leg?”  
“I just sprained my ankle, nothing bad.”  
It’s amazing how good you get at lying after years of pretending. I literally have no problem coming up with believable excuses in mere seconds. The only problem is that Ellen knows me better than anybody. That and the fact, that my left leg is visibly swollen.  
“Come on Dewain, you know better.”  
Groaning Kaua steps up behind me, hands hidden in the pockets of his mantle.  
“We don’t have time for this boy.”  
Ellen shoots a confused look at the old man standing behind me, starting something that feels like an all-out staring war between them. Before it can get any worse I carefully pull her a little to the side, keeping my voice low enough that only she is able to hear me.  
“No time to explain. You wouldn’t believe me anyways. But you gotta get out of here.”  
“What do you mean, out of here?”  
Noticing that she’s on the verge of getting worked up I lay my hands on her shoulders and squeeze.  
“Please, you’ve got to trust me.”  
Ellen looks at me in silence, searching for anything, a clue, a hint, in my face but there’s no way she could imagine what’s going on right beneath her feet. So she sighs softly and relaxes her shoulders.  
“Okay, okay. But I’m going to wait outside for you. No back talk!”  
Knowing this is all I’m going to get out of her I let my hands slide from her shoulders just as she begins to make her way out of the building. I’m not completely sure why but the man who was standing behind the bar follows her without saying a word. I raise my brow at Kaua who was the last one to talk to him but he isn’t even looking at me. Already on his way to the door that leads to the basement I have to push through the pain a little to catch up to him.  
“What’s your plan?”  
I cling to the handrail as we make our way down the stairs. It’s getting darker with every step, again making me wonder why no one bothered to install lights down here. And if Kaua even has a plan.  
“Call out to your ghost friends.”  
Finally at the bottom of the stairs I scooch over closer to the old man. With the little bit of light left I can see him pulling out his staff out of nowhere, basically out of thin air. He taps it against the ground once and it lights up, illuminating our part of the hallway.  
“You mean Erika and Alfred? Why?”  
“They will know where to find these creatures.”  
A cold shiver runs down my spine. So he really wants to beard the lion in his den. A full out suicide mission if you ask me. I don’t even know why I followed him. Sure, I want to help. But  
this feels more like running straight into fire.  
“Erika?”  
It doesn’t even take a second for her to appear right in front of me. The moment my eyes focus on her figure I notice that she looks worn out. More than the last time I saw her.  
“Dewain! I was so worried when you didn’t come back, are you okay?”  
She falls around my neck, squeezing me harder than a ghost should be able to. Which means I probably just crossed back over into the veil.  
It’s not easy to get her off me but I have the bad feeling that there’s no time for a touching reunion.  
“Don’t worry about me, what happened? You look terrible, even for a spirit.”  
I don’t know her that long but good enough to know that this remark should have gotten at least a tiny laugh out of her. Instead her eyes drop to the ground, just for a moment before they fixate on something down the hallway.  
“Since you’ve left these, things, or whatever they are, have become more active. More and more of us get swallowed by them, there’s only a handful left. Me and Alfred included.”  
I feel like my heart stops. It must be because I opened that window. This is my fault.  
“Do you know where they are coming from?”  
Erika looks up to the old man next to us and shakes her head.  
“No, I’m sorry. Ever since I’ve been here they’ve been spreading out. But I think I know someone who does.”  
“Lead the way.”  
Kaua grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me with him as he realizes I’m not moving. It yanks me out of the shock I’m in but the guilt lingers. I know this is no time to feel sorry for myself but how could I not, knowing what I’ve done.  
Erika leads us down the hallway, taking a few turns here and there, coming back through a wall as she realized Kaua couldn’t follow. It must be strange for him to be the only one being stuck in the physical realm. I should be too, actually, possessing a body and all. Not that I’m complaining but it is strange that I am able to walk through the walls when he can’t.  
We finally arrive in a small room. Four other ghosts watch us with suspicious eyes as we step in, looking at Erika for confirmation before they relax. Kaua halts in the doorframe, his staff firmly in his hand. I stop and turn around to him, shooting him a confused look. The old man scans the room for a second before he focuses on me and Erika, finally following us in.  
“The area is vibrating with energy. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to gather in the same location.”  
“Who are these people?”  
I turn around to see one of them, a young woman dressed in a worn-down medieval skirt and shirt coming towards us.  
“They’re here to help.”  
“I don’t think breaking us apart will be of much help.”  
The woman eyes Kaua sharply who returns the stare just as firmly. He really needs to work on his attitude.  
“Either that or being swallowed by these creatures as a group. Your choice.”  
As the two of them bicker I catch another glimpse at the other ghosts. One is a child, maybe four. The other is an old man dressed in a suit. The third a man in his forties, wearing a pair of welder’s goggles. I don’t see Alfred though.  
“This is no time to argue.” Erika presses as she steps in between them. “Listen Anika, do you remember when these things first appeared?”  
The ghostly woman focuses on Erika, thinking for a moment before she shifts her weight onto one leg and crosses her arms.  
“Dimly. It wasn’t long after I died.”  
I am amazed by how sane she seems, counting down the years she must have been stuck here now. I’ve read that ghosts lose themselves the longer they exist in this realm, eventually turning them into Poltergeists or the likes. I really would like to ask her about that but, if I get the chance to, it will be after we’re done here. Whatever it is that we’re going to do.  
“Back then this was a brewery. It wasn’t big so it didn’t take  
long for me to notice. There was this crack in the wall, right behind one of the barrels. I stepped closer to get a better look on it when it burst open. I fled as fast as I could but since I couldn’t leave the house there was nowhere to go. I hid in the attic for the next few decades.”  
“Is the room you found the crack in still there?”  
“It is.” Anika mutters, glaring at Kaua. “I would not go there though. It is surrounded by these creatures.”  
I exchange a quick look with Erika before I look up to Kaua.  
“Could you bring us there?”  
Not only Anika but every single person in this room stares at Kaua as if he has gone insane. I mean, I knew it was coming. I still don’t think this is a good idea though. But what else are we supposed to do?  
“I can bring you close. I won’t go into the nest though.”  
“Fairly reasonable. Let’s go.”  
Kaua adjusts his satchel and raises his staff, making room for the ghostly woman, signing her to lead the way. I feel a grip on my arm and turn, facing Erika who looks directly at me. Her dull eyes seem to be fighting something, a picture she fears to become reality.  
“Please don’t die.”  
“I won’t. Promise.”  
I shoot her a quick smile before I carefully remove her hand from my arm and follow the other two out into the hallway.  
It doesn’t take long for the atmosphere to change. The further down we go the colder it gets. I’m in luck since being in the veil means I can at least vaguely tell where we are going. Kaua only has the light of his staff.  
“I hope you two know what you are doing.”  
I swallow and say nothing. Kaua on the other hand lets out a low chuckle, drawing the woman’s attention to him.  
“What makes you think we don’t?”  
“You’re men. You never do.”  
Her reply is dry and short. I don’t hesitate to admit that she does have a point. I’m a man myself and I can agree with that.  
“Don’t be so sure about that.”  
Anika stops, turning around to glare at Kaua for a moment before she turns back around and keeps walking. I hope all of this is over soon.  
“In my time men ruined everything. Stealing power, doing whatever they want, robbing those below them without hesitation. And what did our men do when the king’s men came? Run and hide, like the cowards they were. None of them had the guts to speak up. In the end it came to us women to show sense of courage and raise our voices.”  
Step by step it’s getting darker. Even I have to depend on the light from Kaua’s staff now in order to see the way in front of us.  
“It ended up with half of us women being hung. To set an example.”  
After finishing her sentence Anika stops, turning around to us.  
“This is it.”  
I try to look past her but all I can see is darkness.  
“Don’t fuck shit up.“  
I stare at her in disbelief of what I just heard coming from her mouth. Noticing that she rolls her eyes.  
“I’m not living under a stone, you know. Not figuratively at least.”  
With that she walks past me, making her way back. I watch her disappear in the distance while Kaua goes through his satchel.  
“Now the band begins to play, boy.”  
I turn back to the old man who his holding his hand out to me. In it lays a necklace, gleaming in the white light of the staff.  
“What is that?”  
“It will protect you. Put it around your neck.”  
I take it out of his palm and hold it up. The white talisman hanging from it seems to be some kind of stone or crystal. Carved into it is a symmetrical cross with circles on the top and bottom end of it, beneath them two diagonal lines on both sides of the line. The lines facing to the sides split at the end, arrowheads facing each other where the lines of the cross meet. I’ve never seen this symbol before but I fathom it’s one of his sigils. So I do as I’m told and lay it around my neck.  
“I will do our best to hide our presence from these creatures as best as I can but nevertheless we must be careful now.”  
Kaua is holding his staff firmly in his hand in front of us, continuously scanning our surroundings. We see one or two shadows move in the hallway next or in front of us but they don’t seem to detect us. I walk next to the old man as quietly as possible, careful not to touch any of the furniture that is phasing in and out of existence which is getting harder the closer we get to our destination. Walls become translucent and crumbly. Even the floor is starting to disappear in holes big enough that even Kaua could just disappear into them. If that wasn’t strange enough it almost feels like the air around us is charged up which is getting more and more unbearable with every step.  
“Can you feel it?”  
I swallow hard and nod. By now I forgot everything I ever learned about personal space and am walking even closer to Kaua. I never felt something like that before. It’s making it hard to walk or even breathe, my heart fluttering more than beating. And then I see it. It’s a rift, a crack in the wall right in front of us. A smoke like substance is flowing out of it like tentacles reaching out, trying to find something to hold on to. The hissing shakes me down to the bone.  
“We found it.”  
Looking down to me as I cling onto his arm Kaua raises a brow. I stare into the room which is filled with these creatures, blocking the view at the crack as they walk past it.  
“Hey, look at me.”  
I rip my eyes off it and look up to Kaua. There’s something soft in his facial expression, something that gives me a hint of security.  
“They don’t seem to notice us, it’s okay.”  
“Dewain.”  
Kaua heard it too. We turn around to the direction where we just came from. There in the darkness I see a pair of white eyeholes staring at us, just lingering there, watching.  
“What are you doing?”  
More and more eyes appear around the first pair. Soon enough we are surrounded from all sides.  
“Don’t listen to them.”  
Kaua holds a hand out in front of me and pushes me behind him.  
“You wouldn’t hurt us, would you?”  
“Don’t push us away.”  
It’s a different voice every time they speak but always the same response from my body. Disgust. I can feel it. They’re not meant to be here. I can’t describe it but something inside of me knows they don’t belong here. Not in this reality, not in this world.  
“Please let us stay.”  
“You will let us stay, yes? You will let us.”  
“You’re good, we know it.”  
“You understand us, you do.”  
“You’re not like him. You won’t hurt us.”  
“We want to stay.”  
“Don’t send us back.”  
“Dewain. Concentrate.”  
I shake my head. Something is wrong. They may be emanating an uneasy feeling but it’s not the same I felt when I faced the thing that attacked me. There are traces of it, yes. But this is completely different. Their voices sound hurt, broken. Desperate.  
“Something’s odd Kaua.”  
“What do you mean, odd?”  
So far they haven’t broken the dome of light around us. It seems to be holding them off, the only shield standing between them and us.  
“They’re begging for help.”  
Kaua growls and swirls around, grabbing me by the shoulders and staring directly into my face.  
“Don’t be foolish. It doesn’t matter what they are saying, they are malevolent. They are ripping apart this reality!”  
From the corner of my eyes I notice one of the shadows leaving the black mass and shooting across the wall towards us. Luckily Kaua does so too. He slams the bottom of his staff against the wall, sending a wave of light across it. As they hit the creature it lets out a painful whine and falls down to the ground. It’s emaciated body twitches beneath the light, its nails digging into the ground. Its skin is leathery but its limbs are proportional to its small body, completely distinct from the creature that went for my leg. I can make out a pointed ear on one side of its head but that’s about all of the time I have to observe it before it begins to crawl back to the mass of darkness which starts screeching and moving. Luckily Kaua is a thousand times quicker than me, otherwise we’d be meat by now. He notices their change of behaviour early enough, grabs me by the collar, throws me back and takes a stand in front of me. The end of is staff gets slammed to the ground, sending a wave of blinding light out of the crystal on top of it, pushing the mass of shadowy creatures back. The one Kaua hit isn’t so lucky. Still affected by the attack and too slow to avoid the next it is completely exposed to the light. Screaming and wincing in pain it claws into the stone while his body starts to burn away in the light. The smell is unbearable.  
“We need to close the rift, Dewain!”  
I turn around but all I can see is darkness. These things are blocking our way.  
“How? They’re not letting us through.”  
I look back to Kaua who is visibly struggling with holding the shadowy mass off.  
“You know what to do!”  
“No, I don’t!”  
His dark brown eyes fix on me, his eyebrows knitted from the strain.  
“You can do it, I know it.”  
“I can’t Kaua, last time was pure coincidence.”  
“Your abilities don’t respond to coincidence.”  
I see him sink down on his knee and rush to help him up but he waves me back, taking one hand away from his staff.  
“I’ll manage, close the rift! Quickly!”  
He won’t be able to hold them off for much longer. When he saved Alfred, Erika and me there weren’t nearly as many creatures present as now. And they weren’t defending something. Now they are putting up a fight and being so close to the source probably only makes them stronger. I don’t have a choice.  
I turn back to where the rift is and hold my hand out, closing my eyes. I can do this. Take a deep breath and focus. Try to do the same thing you did last time, imagine the light manifesting right in front of your palm. Kaua is right, it wasn’t luck. I fended that thing off. I manifested the light that saved me and Rhiannon. I know what to do.  
Just as this thought manifests in my head I feel my palm getting warmer. A dim light, growing brighter by the second, shines through my eyelids, making me decide to open my eyes and see for myself. It’s not the light from Kaua’s staff shining behind me. It’s another source, coming right from my hand. The creatures in front of me begin to shy away, moving out of my path as I begin to step into the room. Finally I see the crack in the wall. It’s dark tentacles twitch as they’re hit with my light and slip back into the crack’s darkness, hiding from the light in my palm. Standing directly in front of it I realize that it’s even bigger than I am tall. I have to raise myself on my tiptoes to reach its upper end. The moment I touch it a shockwave goes through the room, almost throwing me off my balance. I turn my head to look back at Kaua. He is still kneeling on the ground, shouting something at me I can’t understand. All I can hear is the screaming of the things swirling around me and the horrendous noise coming from behind the crack. I focus back on my hand and slowly begin to move it downwards as the light is pulling the ends of the crack together, sealing them like a blowtorch. The screaming around me getting louder and louder it feels like my head is about to explode. My vision is getting hazy and my balance starts to shift but I can’t give in now. I’m so close, only 30cm left. As I reach the lower end the outline of it starts to glow just before it closes completely. Another shockwave, far stronger than the first, sends me flying across the room, hitting my head on the floor. Then everything goes dark.

Next thing I know is that I am somewhere else. I’m laying down in the grass, a soft breeze blowing my curly hair into my face. I push it away with my hand, rubbing my tickling nose and push myself up. I have no idea where I am. All I can see is an endless green plateau, limited only by a giant mountainside in the distance. The water of a lake at the bottom of the hill I am sitting on reflects the light of the sun shining through the clouds above me. I rise myself to my feet and look around, trying to see anything that would help me make out where I am, a hut or a road, anything. But no matter how long and hard I look, there’s nothing but nature as far as I can see.  
“Who are you to have called me here?”  
I jerk around, bracing myself for the worst. There’s a man standing only a few meters away from me. He wasn’t there before, I am sure of it. The wind around is plays with his long brown hair, tangling around the ornaments of his leather armour. He must be a spirit. Either that or I am having a really weird dream.  
“Where are we?”  
He wrinkles his nose, grey eyes narrowing as far as they can.  
“Do not answer a question with a question.”  
I swallow hard, getting a quick look around again, hoping to see anything that could help me out of this situation. But we’re alone. Where the hell is Kaua?  
“My name is Dewain.” I begin, voice shaking a little. “Listen, buddy, I don’t know how I got here or even where I am so I’m just gonna go.”  
I try to turn around but I don’t even get to take a step forward. This man is standing right in front of me, blocking my path. I turn around to where he was standing and then back to him, confused and now definitely stressed.  
“You have no idea.”  
It sounds almost like a question but his face is just as stiff as earlier. Judging from his look I’d say he’s about to kill me, which I hope he won’t.  
“Idea of what?”  
I slowly begin to realize that the man I am speaking to isn’t actually speaking English. I don’t recognize the language and neither do I know why I am able to understand him. Or how he understands me. But by now I’ve started to understand that asking questions like this is probably more than pointless.  
“You have faced them, have you not?”  
“Faced who?” I ask, quickly taking a step back as his look switches from pissed to murderous. “You mean these black creatures with the white eyes?”  
Instead of answering my question he just stares at me, eyeing me from top to bottom.  
“So there is hope still.”  
Why are all the people I meet in this strange new world speaking in riddles? Honestly, it’s starting to mess with my mental health.  
“You closed the rift?”  
“If you mean the crack they came from, yes.”  
Again the man just stares at me for a while, so long that it actually starts to get uncomfortable.  
“You should head back now.”  
Without looking at me again the man turns around, walking down the hill, just leaving me standing there. I watch him for a few seconds before I call out to him and follow.  
“Wait, I don’t know how!”  
“You don’t need to.”  
And that’s it. He disappears into a wall of mist right in front of my eyes that starts to surround the hill. Scared of being swallowed by it I run back up the hill, trying to find a way out, but by now the mist has swallowed everything around me besides the top of the hill. Within seconds all I have left is a little spot of grass which keeps shrinking until I am pulled into foggy nothingness.

With a ringing in my ear I wake up, still laying on the floor. The image of that man still in front of my inner eye I fight myself back on my feet, regaining my orientation and making my way over to Kaua. The black mass has broken apart, creatures and shadows screaming and crawling across the walls and floor, hissing, fighting as their bodies slowly being to dissipate. I catch Kaua just as his hands begin to slip from his staff, planting them back on it while I support him with my body. His light is nothing more than a flicker of a candle by now, barely enough for me to see, but it doesn’t look like we’ll need it anymore. The creatures in front of us are disappearing one after another, into thin air, through the walls or down the halls until they’re all gone completely.  
“Seems like without a connection to their realm their forms aren’t able to stay in ours.”  
Kaua’s voice is low and weak but he’s strong enough to stand up on his own. He’s still wobbly so I am doing my best to hold him up but honestly, that’s close to impossible. Compared to me he is a mountain. And you can’t support a mountain with a twig.  
“Don’t worry, I’m okay.”  
I don’t really believe him, not the way he looks. But who am I to tell him what to do? So I slowly let him go, watching him as he puts one foot in front of the other, supporting his weight with his staff.  
“Let’s get out of here.”

“Dewain!”  
The light of the sun stings in my eyes as we step back out into what can only be described as the real world. Within seconds there is another human hanging around my neck, the added bodyweight almost making my knees buckle. I’m not as worn out as Kaua but still, somehow it feels like all my energy has been drained out.  
“What the hell happened? Everything started shaking all of a sudden.”  
I stare at Ellen in silence, not knowing what to say. My eyes shift to Kaua, hoping for help, but he’s busy going through his satchel. He’s such an ass.  
“It’s…complicated.”  
Finally letting go she raises an eyebrow at me. I know fully well that this answer won’t satisfy her but I have no clue how I could possibly explain to her what I just went through. She always supported me but she too is one of the people who believe I am imagining things. Hell, it’s the only sane reaction. Even I thought this can’t be real. But I’ve been proven wrong in not even a handful of days.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“I really wish I could explain but you wouldn’t believe me anyways.”  
Before Ellen can return anything I feel a firm grip on my shoulder. As I look up Kaua is standing next to me, his head facing down the street. I follow his look, tensing up as I see Erika and the other ghosts we met underground standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Without a thought in my head I dash forwards, leaving Kaua and Ellen behind me.  
“You really did it.”  
Her blue eyes beam at me, almost as if they’re reflecting the light of the sun which is slowly fighting it’s way through the wall of clouds above us. The other ghosts aren’t saying a word, their eyes focused on the sky. If I didn’t know better I’d say they’re enjoying the fresh air.  
“Yeah, I think so.”  
Erika reaches a hand out to mine but it slips right through. She stares at it for a moment before her expression returns to the soft smile she greeted me with earlier, her hand dropping down. Guess I’ve gotten thrown out of the veil as the last shockwave hit.  
“We can’t thank you enough.” Anika is standing next to Erika, her hand resting on the other ghost’s shoulder. “Now we’re able to leave this place.”  
“You too?”  
“I think so.” Anika faces up to the sky, closing her eyes as she answers. “Even though they were not the reason I have been stuck here I feel like I can finally let go.”  
She grants me a last smile before she turns to Erika.  
“It’s time to go.”  
The young girl fidgets with her fingers, looking at me from the corner of her eyes. She looks worried, even scared.  
“She’s right. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”  
I hope my smile doesn’t look too awkward, I’ve never been the type to be good at comforting people. But if this means it will make it easier for her to cross over it’s the best I can do.  
“Be good, Dewain.”  
The first to go is the little child. Bit by bit his figure starts to blur until it completely dissolves into glowing particles of light, hovering up into the sky. I watch as they all begin to make their way to wherever they’re heading, Erika’s beautiful beaming face being the last thing I see before I am the only one left standing there, staring at the spot where Erika was standing mere seconds ago.


End file.
